


A Change of Worlds

by SmokeAndEmber



Series: Left for Dead [1]
Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, True Blood
Genre: Adventure, Drama, F/M, Post-Apocalypse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 76,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeAndEmber/pseuds/SmokeAndEmber
Summary: It's not the end of the world, but it's the end for humanity.Sookie is one of the remaining few to have escaped The Great Death and survive in the ghost town that is modern civilization. After traveling across country and seeking safety within a small community in South Carolina, the telepath finds herself in an impossible position and forced to beg for help from the one breed of survivors who are most feared post-apocalypse… Vampires.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've finished writing this so I plan to be posting a few chapters a week. It's sitting around 70k words right now, and I'll probably end up writing a few little one-shots to add to the end.
> 
> No beta. All the plot holes, spelling and grammar mistakes are mine.

I didn't have a death wish.

I know it might have seemed like it, driving alone in the middle of the night on a deserted freeway heading south through the now virtually uninhabited state of Florida, but I didn't.

I could justify my current actions against the knowledge that if I'd been secretly harboring a wish to die I would've perished nearly two years ago after the plague outbreak had swept through the world. Since then, fighting for survival had become a conscious and continuous effort from moment to moment. Or from second to second, as the last few days had proven for me.

Plenty of plague survivors had died in the months after the great death. Many killed themselves, through conscious action – or inaction – simply unable to cope with the collapse of modern civilization and the loss of their loved ones. Others succumbed to the challenges that the new world presented.

Locating and growing food, finding shelter, healthcare, and sourcing clean water were often insurmountable challenges for a society that had those essential skills practically bred out of them thanks to modern luxuries and disposable incomes. There was also the scores of ravenous vampires looking for sustenance.

So, while a small part of me could understand how some might willingly choose to die given all the changes, for me, if I cast aside the grief and loss of my old life and family, what I had left over wasn't anguish and woe. It was hope and pride for my fellow humans.

Many folks had beaten the odds. I'd seen it for myself. The few remaining had survived the impossible and gone on to persist in a challenging and grim environment. I'd seen how they had persevered through the worst of conditions, how they had strived to continue on and create a new life for themselves, how they endured despite the world they knew having crumbled around them. I'd basked in the hope that colored and influenced their thoughts and actions.

Persistence. It was the unifying trait of all the humans that remained. Perhaps it was the one trait that simply described humans best in general. And there wasn't many of us. If the virus was as fatal as the CDC claimed by the end, then there was only hundreds of thousands of us scattered across the world.

Sam, on his deathbed some 20 months earlier, had told me of how the earliest humans had survived through the ice age by taking refuge alongside rivers in deep valleys. "This is our ice-age, cher," he'd said, his eyes glowing with conviction. "Find your valley and survive."

I had waited by his bedside until he had passed on, his cool limp hand enveloped in mine. I'd squeezed it gently for a final time once he was gone. I was finally alone then. The lone remaining citizen of Bon Temps. While the two-natured seemed more resilient against the plague compared to many, my guess was most of the were population had been decimated.

I sat there willing Sam's death to affect me. It was the last one that mattered, after all. But there had been so many. I welcomed the clench of grief in my chest while saying goodbye to him, but there were no tears. Watching the world die first certainly had a way of hardening a woman. And I was no shrinking violet, to begin with.

With a prayer on my lips, I'd delivered Sam's body to the abandoned morgue and left it burning in the crematorium. Authorities had said in the early days it was unsafe to bury the dead, fearing the pestilence and decay would seep into the ground water tainting it. It was the one good decision they'd made early on in the fallout.

If America's survivors had buried its entire population in the ground, the issues we were facing would be so much worse, even for those immune to the plague. Great pyres in every city had burned. Cities and towns had been thick with smoke.

After leaving Sam, I had then driven his truck out to Hot Shot. I'd been prepared to leave Bon Temps for nine days by that point. The plague had taken Sam painfully slow compared to others. Maybe it was a supe thing.

When I arrived in Hot Shot, I held no hope of survivors but knew it was worth the trip simply for sourcing supplies. The folk out there were poor as dirt but were survivalists and preppers long before the fallout had arrived.

I'd found one survivor, though. A mind drifting in and out of consciousness that I tracked down to a rundown shack along the main street. It was a were-panther by the name of Randall. Between crackling breaths, he'd managed to explain to me that he was a cousin of Calvin Norris, the pack leader of the were-panthers.

Randall was half-way dead. His eyes blood red, all the vessels having burst – the hallmark of the great death. His body was barely skin and bones. He had begged me to shoot him. Pleaded with his rasping voice to take him out of his misery. I plucked from his mind that he'd have done it himself if he had the strength to hold the rifle to his head.

I had instead gone out to my first-aid kit in the truck and sacrificed one packet of morphine sulfate pills from my assortment of medicine. Back in his cabin, I had cradled him into a sitting position on his soiled bedsheets. I helped him swallow the entire packet of pills. His relief was palpable, I allowed it to flood my mind as he drifted to sleep for the final time. It was a salve to us both.

I knew I should've done the same for Sam. It was a painful realization. He had never asked me to, though, even if I had caught the idea of it floating from his fuzzy thoughts towards the end. He knew it was too much to ask of me, and I was too selfish to say goodbye to my only remaining friend before God deemed it his time to go. So it remained unsaid. We were both painfully aware I would have nothing left once he was gone.

I had exited the reeking cabin before death found Randall. I then raided Hot Shot of as many usable supplies I could sensibly pack in the back of Sam's truck. With Hadley's letter stuffed in my pocket and one last stop, I finally left Louisiana. I headed north-east. I was going to find my valley. I was going to survive.

So, the answer was no. I was sure I didn't have a death wish. The twenty-two months since leaving Louisiana had proven that. And I didn't think my current actions could be explained as a roundabout way of committing suicide, either. I couldn't fault any outsider for thinking it. In truth, it was the actions of a desperate woman. I was rolling the dice and hoping that taking a huge risk would see to my continued survival.

I chanced a glance from the road to look at the weeping bandage covering my thigh. The bandage was no longer white, rather a motley collection of beiges, browns, and dark reds. It smelled putrid. I turned my eyes back to the road. I needed to stop for a rest again, but I'd only been back on the road for less than an hour. Every time I pulled over to rest I risked not getting back on the road again.

My thoughts were floating, drifting from one daydream to another as if I was falling asleep with my eyes open. My hands were clammy and cold, and my breath was coming shallow and fast. Sepsis had set in days ago, but it was finally hitting me hard now.

I pressed on towards my destination, past the dark ghosts of abandoned towns and cities. I was taking a huge risk, but I knew at this point there was nothing to lose, anyway. I would die if I didn't get the help I needed soon.


	2. Survival

My energy spiked as I passed the cheerful blue sign on the bridge announcing my arrival to Jupiter Island, Florida. It was a barrier island that closely hugged the coast of Florida. Driving down the main road and past the rows of enormous estates I could see it would have been prime real estate back in the day. Now, like the rest of the world, it was a simply another stretch of empty structures quickly losing its battle against mother-nature.

I had rolled down the windows sometime earlier trying to get relief from my fever. My body couldn't decide if it needed to cool down or warm up. Tylenol had no effect now, so I was grateful to find any relief where I could. I was so close to the ocean I could smell it. The warm, salty breeze whipped through my hair. It helped me focus on the road before me. On my task ahead.

It was easy to find the giant compound. The light from the powered homes illuminated the night sky long before I could see the physical buildings. An unintended beacon revealing its location. The bright glow was jarring after driving for hundreds and hundreds of miles without barely a sign of life.

A wave of relief and triumph swept through me. I was here. I hastily wiped the tears that had gathered in my eyes.

I'd been operating off second-hand information that there was a community located here on Jupiter Island, but it had never been a sure thing. I knew rationally that the true challenge was still ahead, but even just making it this far felt like I had accomplished the impossible.

I cast out my sixth sense as I drew nearer, and as soon as my mind brushed against the tell-tale mental signatures of weres I quickly pulled to the side of the road. I could see I was still hundreds of yards away, and there had to be maybe a half dozen weres patrolling the large area.

I managed to haul myself out of the driver's seat. I forced myself to stand through the mother of all dizzy spells, leaning heavily on the side of the car. I dragged myself around to the back and unhooked my bike off the rack and opened the trunk.

The street was completely dark. I moved as quickly as I could, hiding my back up escape plan in the safety of some deep hedges along a property. Adrenaline was my only source of energy by this point. I knew once I was sitting I wouldn't be able to stand up for long. Or ever again.

I whispered a quick prayer as I stashed the items in the bushes. I had set aside three smaller items, which I now stuffed down my underpants. Not exactly comfortable, but it would do until I had a chance to hide them somewhere safe and secret. I hoped it wouldn't come to using any of them. My hidden back-up escape plan too. I'd be effectively up the creek without a paddle if I needed to use them, but I'd be foolish to enter the compound without a even the most basic of contingency plans.

Once I was back in the car, I continued my slow approach towards the brightly lit subdivision ahead. I had no real plan once I got to this point. A scary thought, but I had no choice to play it by ear. I couldn't form a plan when it was impossible to know what to expect. I hadn't the faintest clue of what I was walking into. I had to keep my wits about me and improvise.

I snorted silently to myself. What a joke. My brain wasn't firing on all cylinders, the infection was affecting my mental state too. Thoughts were slow to form. My mind continually wandered as if through fog. I couldn't exactly be sure I could rely on myself to make the right decisions, either.

I was SOL. It's what Jason used to say. Shit outta luck.

Sure am, Jase, I thought.

I'd encountered small groups of unfriendly folk on the drive down from South Carolina. Well, not so much 'encountered' rather than I'd been shot at driving through towns. More than once. Folk likely looking for supplies and medicine. But it was the working vehicle that attracted them most. Regular fuel had expired months ago, in warmer climates it happened even sooner. A vehicle that ran on alternate fuel sources was the holy-grail for those tiny pockets of folk trying to eke out an existence. They were desperate peoples. Would vampires be the same?

I gripped the wheel and rolled slowly along the road, towards a well-lit gated area. It stood out brilliantly against the dark surrounds, causing me to squint. A dark cherry red brick fence with a large rolling wrought iron gate blocked off the main road, dividing the southern tip of the barrier island from the north. It cut through the yard of a mansion on my right and across to the mansion on the opposite side of the road to my left. It had clearly been erected after society had collapsed.

"Halt!" A deep voice boomed through a megaphone from somewhere ahead.

Two weres, dressed in black tactical gear and built nearly as wide as they were tall, stepped into the glow of the car's headlights. They pointed automatic weapons at the windscreen.

I stopped the car abruptly and held up my hands off the steering wheel.

"I'm friendly. I'm not armed," I called out the open window. I could barely recognize the sound of my own voice, my words came out as a hoarse and plaintive squeak. A weak version of my usual southern burr. I felt like a kitten mewling in response to a lion. For all I knew, they probably were were-lions.

One were stood guard, still pointing the weapon at me and the other walked over to the drivers' side and opened the car door roughly.

"Don't move," he barked. He reached in and retrieved the keys from the ignition. "Now, step out of the vehicle."

"Yes, sir." I braced myself against the seat back and pulled myself out of the car and up onto my good leg. My vision swam, stars obscuring the sight of the menacing were before me. I pawed blindly for the side of the car and fell back onto it unsteadily, waiting for the ringing in my ears and swirling sensations to abate.

"What is your business here?" he asked, and then looked down to my injured leg. His nose curled in disgust.

I blinked at him and focused on righting my shoulders and standing straight. I wanted to seem composed, but it was probably useless considering I was relying on the car to keep me upright.

"I'm seeking medical assistance." Understatement of the year. I felt like I'd been chewed up, spit out and stepped on.

"We're no hospital, lady. You won't be finding any help for that here." He nodded to my leg.

"Please, I have supplies. Check my car. Water filters. Seeds and seedlings. Some dehydrated and tinned food. Synthetic blood and iron supplements, multi-vitamins, all still good for another year at least."

I waited for a response, puffed out from the simple effort of speaking.

If I thought sitting and driving for over a day straight had been hard, standing and speaking for less than a minute felt like sheer torture. My leg was screaming at me, pain shooting and radiating from the site of the wound. My body felt like it had run a marathon simultaneously through ice and fire.

I directed all my effort into keeping my face relaxed and neutral. I couldn't chance my face showing how terrible I felt, though they could probably tell anyway. I was terrified they might think me too far gone to bother letting me through. They might be right.

The were before me eyed me skeptically but gestured to his companion who walked around to the passenger door and opened the car, shining a torch into the cabin and over the back seat into the hatch-back trunk.

"She's right," he called. "There's other stuff here too. Even brought a few cases of booze." His voice turned gleeful.

He was picturing finishing his shift with his feet up and a glass of whiskey. I silently thanked Jessup on his insistence I pack it as part of my offering.

The second were then walked around the car to join the other guard. He regarded me with a disdainful eye.

"Christ, when was the last time this one showered?"

"She's sick."

"It's not contagious," I clarified, though both seemed to ignore me. Maybe I'd only said the words in my head?

"No shit, she's sick." He grabbed my chin roughly, turning my head this way and that, regarding my features with scrutiny. "She might be a looker if she gets cleaned up and healed." I felt like a horse up for sale. A lame sick horse. Judging by his thoughts, I pretty much was.

"We've lost two donors this week. Might as well send her through."

They zip tied my hands in front of me and to my dismay he deposited me into the back seat of the car. I asked if we could leave the car outside the compound but they ignored me yet again.

I nursed a case of cherry tomato seedlings on my lap since I was sitting in their spot, and the first were, speaking through a walkie-talkie, had the gates opened for us. We drove through into the compound and towards what would hopefully be my salvation.

He parked the car just on the other side of the gate. After the seedlings were relocated to the floor of the car, I was pulled roughly from the back seat and marched up the road. I couldn't keep up, unable to bear any weight on my bad leg, my strength completely gone. It was by sheer will that I kept myself conscious as I half stumbled and was half dragged along by my captors.

I pictured Gran in my mind, sternly telling me that Stackhouses weren't quitters and they saw things through to the end regardless of the difficulties. May the good Lord strike me down right now, if I wasn't going to heed the words of that woman even from beyond the grave. I forced my legs to move under me, I wasn't graceful by any standards but I was upright and managing.

There were minds everywhere. In my head I could hear the cacophony of voices in the enormous homes surrounding me. My shields were now failing me. Though curiously, there were almost as many minds I couldn't hear, they registered like voids, empty spaces where thoughts should be. Some moved, others stayed still, some felt different from others in a way I couldn't quite discern. My eyes drifted shut as I latched onto a nearby void, sinking into its silence.

A sharp slap across the cheek brought me rapidly back to the present.

"Stay awake, girly."

"I'm awake," I croaked. My ears rang.

They pulled me along a long driveway, past palm trees and tropical shrubbery to the front door of a Spanish style cream stucco mansion. It was an obscenely huge three stories high and judging by the sounds of the ocean, it was built up right against the beach.

Two of the mental voids I'd been detecting around the neighborhood stood guard by the tall walnut front doors. Once I focused my gaze onto their pale, glowing features I realized with a shock they were vampires. I wondered if I was hallucinating or if they really did emit a soft glow. I didn't think I was hallucinating. I doubt I could have imagined their empty mental presence. Two natured all had a particular red, snarly fuzziness to their minds, so could it be that vampires were silent voids?

If I hadn't been so close to collapsing completely I might have taken the time to absorb that little fact. Maybe even be excited by it. I'd never met someone who didn't bombard me with their thoughts. Instead though, I channeled all my available energy into keeping conscious and upright. I stared hopefully at the new guards; praying silently they would let me in.

They nodded to the weres and the giant doors opened. I squinted against the bright lights of the receiving foyer of the mansion. The room was wide and high. Cream marble adorned the floors, walls, and columns. Even the staircase was a gleaming cream marble with gold adornments. It was kitsch. I hated it.

"Fresh meat!" came a cry from somewhere within the huge dwelling. With my shields completely gone now, I detected the sudden hubbub of activity. A flurry of thoughts and movement as humans and voids moved closer to the foyer. I guess they weren't used to receiving visitors after the apocalypse.

I was forced down to my knees by the weres and I collapsed forward, my cuffed hands slipped forward on the waxed floors. I managed to catch myself by the elbows. I panted from the exertion of my frog-march, before giving up and sliding forward to the cool floor in a prone position. I guess the marble wasn't so bad after all. Cool and smooth. In fact, it was probably the most comfortable place I could be right now. My eyes fluttered closed.

I remembered finding Jason one Sunday morning, hung over and lying on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor at our old childhood home. He'd refused to go to church that morning even after promising to the week before, in fact he'd refused to leave the confines of the bathroom when I'd tried to shift him by pulling him by the leg.

"Can't you see I'm hurtin', Sook?" he'd complained. "I clearly ain't goin' nowhere. I doubt the pastor would want me hurling between the pews. Now get off me!"

I smiled. He was such a rascal.

Something nudged me hard in the stomach.

"I'd hardly call this fresh meat." The voice was female and unimpressed.

There was a sound of disgust and whispers from different directions. I counted nearly two dozen voids in the hall around me. I sensed even more humans milling on the fringes of the room and surrounding areas. Their thoughts filled my mind until it was a noisy incomprehensible mish-mash of sound. Chatter and whispers between the many vamps filled the foyer.

"She smells foul. Does she carry the plague?"

"She brought supplies. Synthetic blood and supplements for the donors."

"She's not worth the cost of housing her. Butcher her and feed her to the pigs."

"Too far gone with the plague. Blood won't help."

I growled and clenched my fists. I dragged myself back up to my knees, my teeth grinding with the effort.

"Hasn't anyone ever told y'all it's rude to talk about a person as if they're not in the room?" I rasped out the words between breaths.

I regarded them all sternly, especially those still whispering. But being brave in a room full of vampires felt like easy business when the alternative was dying.

"I'm immune to the plague, like the rest of y'all. I'm injured and here to trade supplies for healing. I was told a vampire's blood can heal."

A slim auburn-haired vampire, who couldn't have been older than seventeen when she was turned, crouched before me. She was dressed in a full length white tailored jumpsuit with a wide gold belt cinched tightly around her waist.

"And we happily accept your offering, but don't count on the healing, dear."

"Why not? It's a fair trade." I tried to project confidence rather than my fear.

"Judging by your current state a cure is no certain thing. And when human blood is a finite commodity we won't sacrifice a drop of our own." She stood and walked away, her gold stilettos tapping rhythmically on the hard floors. Was she the leader of the vamps? They seemed to listen to her. The crowd began to disperse.

A flutter of panic travelled through me. Shit! Hysteria chased close behind my panic when I saw where the were guard was picturing dumping me outside the compound.

"Wait!" I cried. "I can make it worth the sacrifice."

The room erupted in loud conversation. The redhead paused midstride, slowly turning. From the back I heard a male, with a strong southern lilt calling for quiet.

"Explain," the auburn haired vampire ordered.

My mind flew through my options. There was only one, really. I could tell them my heritage. But it was my last resort – and a huge risk. It was the reason I didn't care I smelled so offensively. In fact I hadn't bothered changing the bandage for that particular reason. But it was the one ace up my sleeve; something that might tempt them to give me blood. It could also cost me my freedom.

I saw my great-grandfather's face in my mind's eye, remembered his grim warning against vampires.

My heritage. My gift.

"I can be an asset. I'm, well, I'm…" I looked around the room taking in all the watchful faces. My bravery snuffed out quick as a wink.

Let me tell you, there are very few things more terrifying than a room full of vampires turning suddenly silent and fixing their cool gazes on you in anticipation. It's like travelling through a swamp full of gators as they waited for you to make yourself appetizing enough to be worth the effort of pouncing. I swallowed thickly.

"You're what?"

"…I'm handy," I finally croaked, chickening out. "I cook. I clean. I can grow food." And I had to ensure I could leave again too. With human blood in short supply, I seriously doubted they'd let a girl with fae heritage slip through their fingers. Heck, there were enough vamps here and only so much of me to go around, I might not even last a night.

I had to get back to South Carolina.

"I'll pass," said the redhead, exiting the foyer and moving up the sweeping staircase. Two enormous vampires followed in her stead. She lifted her slender arm as she ascended and gestured to the remaining vampires. "Can't presume to speak for the others."

The room erupted in chatter and bodies moving. A large vampire from the back moved against the tide of exiting bodies and came to a stop before me. His tall frame blocked the light from the ridiculous crystal chandelier suspended high above the foyer.

He crouched down like the redhead had and I lifted my head to meet his gaze head on. He was good looking. Gorgeous, in fact. Strong jaw, long blonde hair, the hint of blonde stubble gracing his cheeks. He looked no older than late twenties or early thirties at most, but he was old. Very old. I couldn't explain how I could tell, but somehow in comparison to the other vampires I just knew.

His expression was a mask of pure boredom, though I detected a shade of curiosity in his blue eyes. My vision began to blur as our staring competition dragged out. I was pretty sure I'd blinked a bunch of times anyway. I wondered if he'd mind terribly if I took a short break to lie on the floor again.

A slim pair of legs in dress slacks and nude heels appeared before him.

"Really, Eric? This is what takes your interest?" said the owner of the legs. She sounded exasperated. And British. "If you're after a lost cause, how about I just find you a dying puppy?"

The male vampire lifted my bound hands and ran his nose along the smooth skin inside my wrist. His fangs descended with a purposeful snick. I startled in shock. They were white and shiny. My train of thought slipped towards delirium as I wondered if he had to pop them out to brush them before bed. Did they require flossing too? I wanted to ask.

He dragged his right fang lightly across the skin and a thin line of red appeared in its wake. His cool tongue swiped away the blood before I could tug my hands away.

"What are you doing? I didn't give you permission to taste me!"

"Your blood is infected," he said, releasing my hands after a pause. His fangs were now gone.

"Yes." My ire quickly faded. "I'm septic."

He tilted his head, his gaze boring into my own. Seconds dragged as I waited for him to speak.

"You're dying."

"Certainly looks that way, yes." A curious pressure was building behind my forehead, the tingling of a feather brushing across skin but from the inside. I lifted my hands and rubbed at my forehead.

"You're in pain."

"Yes."

"And you're concealing something."

I made a sound before I could stop myself, it was almost affirmative but came out more like a groan. Oh shoot, he nearly walked me right into that one! "What are you doing to me?" I managed instead.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion and the pressure increased. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous. I opened my eyes with a start.

"I clearly need medical assistance," I said, letting anger in and all my good sense out the door. "Now you can either help me, or get out of my way. I need to lay down and this floor is calling my name."

His expression didn't change though I could've sworn I saw the slightest of twitches pass across his lips. He stood suddenly.

"Bring her to my chambers," he told the weres.

They hauled me to my feet and I let out a moan of pain. Hope swelled within me, even as I eyed the floor enviously. I finally had a fighting chance of survival.


	3. Deal

"Wake, woman." I felt two sharp raps against my cheek. It was the same cheek the were had slapped from before.

"Hey – ouch." I blinked, trying to take stock of the sudden change to my surroundings, but my eyelids were refusing to cooperate.

Someone lifted me, placing pillows behind my back and pushing me to an almost sitting position. I rubbed my eyes, the oblivion of sleep fading.

The two blonde vampires from before stood above me. They were staring at me the way you'd look at that container of forgotten month-old leftovers you discover lurking at the back of the fridge.

I was propped up on a settee in a large sitting room within a private suite. The room featured enormous arched windows that looked out onto the dark ocean. I couldn't remember last time I'd seen it so closely. I could hear the dull roar of waves crashing, and white caps stood out like a multitude of tears on an inky canvas.

A long moment passed. I think they were waiting for me to talk first.

"Thank you for bringing me in and for… Just, thank you." I tried to smile but the effort felt too great, all current things considered.

"What's your name?" The female held a manicured hand against her cocked hip. Her features were delicate, near perfect, and her skin was pale as porcelain. She reminded me of Alice in Wonderland, if Alice had the glint of a cold-blooded killer in her eye.

"Sookie."

"What sort of name is that?" She raised a single shapely brow.

"The sort my parents gave me twenty-seven years ago," I sniped, managing to cross my arms. If first impressions were anything to go by, vampires sorely needed a lesson in social pleasantries and etiquette.

She ignored my reply and turned to the man.

"I suppose her tits are nice. Can't say much about the rest of her."

I opened my mouth to let loose but he beat me to it, snapping something foreign at her. She huffed and zipped faster than I could register straight out of the room.

"Whoa," I breathed, staring after her. I'd seen vampires show off their skills on TV back before the plague, but it was something entirely different to see the real deal. It was like she'd turned herself on fast-forward and then blurred right out of sight.

"What happened here?" The male crouched down beside me and inspected my leg closely, he pulled at the edge of the bandage drawing my attention to it. He had a slight accent, I couldn't pick it though. European, maybe.

"A close encounter with a broken fence paling. Here, I've got this." I gently brushed his hand away to begin peeling at the edge of the bandage. I cursed, realizing the gauze had stuck to the wound. "Do you have any scissors?"

The woman was back with a first aid kit and handed a pair of stainless steel scissors my way. The scissors slipped from my weak grasp, but he caught them.

"Lie back," he ordered. I complied and tipped my head back against the pillow to stare up at the high ceiling. There was no ridiculous chandelier in this room, rather a complicated damask molding painted in golds and beiges.

"It was my own fault it got so bad," I admitted as I felt him cut the bandage away. "I kept it clean as best I could, but I knew it was infected for a good while before I tried antibiotics. I just thought it would clear up on its own." I stopped to swallow, my voice growing hoarse. Talking was taxing. "I guess I had the wrong sort of antibiotics, or they'd gone bad, or maybe it was already too late by then."

I winced as I felt cool liquid drop onto me. He was dripping a plastic tube of saline solution onto the gauze, softening it. I let my eyes drift closed again. It felt soothing.

"Keep your eyes open."

I obeyed with a groan. Sleep felt good, especially with silent minds to sink myself into. Sleep felt easy and absolutely everything else felt impossibly hard.

"You didn't ask us our names," he chided.

"I'm sorry," I said with a soft gasp. I was sure he said it as a ploy to get me to talk and stay awake, but Gran had raised me to be a well-mannered young woman. "How rude of me. What are your names?" Terrible manners, Sookie.

"Eric. This is Pam," he nodded to the woman. She had retreated to an armchair opposite us with an old copy of Marie Claire.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. Are y'all from around here?"

I heard a snort from behind the magazine.

"No," Eric said. "We settled here after the sickness had swept through the states. Our … associates decided to band together and move east when we heard there was a stronghold here."

I nodded. That made sense.

"Things must've been especially hard for vampires with humans mostly gone," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"Yes," came his equally careful reply some moments later.

Travelling at night was unsafe for a long time after everyone had died. I hadn't come across any vampires as I'd made my way across the states, but I'd remained vigilant the whole time. I'd heard stories around the campfire of starved vampires viciously hunting for humans in droves, taking them prisoner and glamouring people to a shell of their former selves in order to keep their life source pliant and on tap. I shivered at the thought. Turns out vampires trumped zombies on the scale of terrifying apocalypse monsters.

"Eyes open."

Shoot. I hadn't realized I'd closed them again.

"You're from the south, I take it?" He removed the last of the bandage and wiped his fingers clean on a sterilized alcohol wipe. He tied his hair back and pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the kit.

"Yes." I gritted out as he gingerly pressed on the wound, examining it. "Northern Louisiana. I'm settled further north nowadays."

Pam's head popped up from over the magazine. Her expression was curious, almost bewildered. Even Eric looked up from his examination.

"Really?"

"Yes, sir." I shifted uncomfortably. Why was that so interesting?

"Pam and I resided in Shreveport for some years up until the great death."

"Get out! I lived, like, less than an hour from there. Bon Temps."

"We ran the vampire bar in Shreveport. Fangtasia. Maybe you've been there?"

"No, not personally. But I did work with some girls that liked to go there. Huh, what a small world."

"What did you do for work?" asked Pam, the magazine resting flat on her lap.

"I was a barmaid at a bar and grill in Bon Temps. Merlotte's."

Eric and Pam shared a brief look. Something passed between them, I just didn't know if it was significant or not. I regarded them warily.

"I need to open the wound right up," Eric said, turning back to me. Pam picked up her magazine again. "Given how progressed the infection is, I must expose my blood to as much of the affected flesh as possible."

He retrieved a scalpel from the kit and lifted it to show me. Suddenly all my worries about their interest in me were forgotten and replaced with a brand new set of worries. I nodded curtly.

I ground my teeth together as I felt the blade press into the center of the wound. I cursed that damn fence paling all the way to hell and back. When I got back to River Rock, South Carolina I was going to find it and snap it into tiny pieces. Then I was going to light the damn thing on fire and watch it burn until it was little more than cinder and ash. Then I might even spit on it too.

"Painkillers," I half gasped, half moaned as the blade passed through the worst of it.

"We have none."

"Then can't you do your mental whammy thing to me?"

He stilled.

"For the pain?" I said. "Glamour?"

"I cannot." He continued cutting and I braced myself against the cushions of the settee, my heels pushing hard against the arm at the end.

"Please," I whimpered. I blinked and he was hovering over my face, small wisps of hair falling from behind his ears.

"Relax," his voice was low, gravelly. My breath caught in my throat and the pressure behind my forehead returned. His pupils dilated, they were almost as big as his irises. "You will feel no pain."

I mentally shook off the feeling before I could stop myself. It felt all kinds of wrong, like the reaction you got from nails down a chalkboard.

"Did it work?" I asked weakly.

"You tell me." He pressed the blade back into where he had been cutting and I cried out. He nodded once. "As I suspected."

"What? Why isn't it working? Is that common?"

"It's unheard of."

The mood in the room shifted on a dime. My heart, already hammering away from fever and infection, picked up to an alarming pace. I didn't know what my inability to be glamoured meant, except that it was definitely not good. Eric's jaw clenched, the muscle in the corner of his jawbone flexing. I could feel Pam's eyes on me from where she sat on her chair behind Eric.

He asked for my help in holding the cut open, to which I obliged silently with shaking hands. His fangs descended and he bit into his wrist without delay, holding it over me while his blood dripped onto the wound. It was cool like the saline, but more viscous. It dribbled from his wrist sluggishly. He repeated the process once more when the bite closed over.

I was slack jawed watching as the red streaks and yellowed flesh on my leg began to fade. It was like seeing the infection's progression sped up but in reverse. The hot, throbbing feeling faded and the edges of the lesion began to knit and shrink in towards the center. Pain eased.

Vampires defied explanation. This was incredible.

"Holy crap. That is amazing." I caught his gaze, wide-eyed. "Y'all are amazing."

He smirked and rocked back on his heels. It definitely wasn't the first time he'd heard that. His wrist had already healed again and he licked up the residual blood. The redhead vampire's comment on not wasting a drop wasn't just hyperbole then.

"Pamela will bring you something to eat and drink from the kitchen." I heard an indignant sound from behind him. "If you can stand, I'll show you your sleeping quarters, as well as the bathroom, then you will bathe."

I was half-way to my feet to test out my leg when I froze. There was no way in hell I could shower. If I got clean and the smell of the infection was to start fading I'd ... I swallowed. I'd have more problems than a high school math book.

I wasn't planning on leaving tonight, but I was intending on getting out at first light. Intending on using the safety of daytime to make my escape. I had to make sure there was a day's travel between me and any vampires who posed a potential threat. Like the great blonde undead in front of me.

I just needed to make it to morning light first.

"Oh no, really, that's fine. I can't thank you enough for your hospitality, but if it's all the same to you, I might have a bite to eat and then head on to bed. I'm not sure I'm up to standing and showering."

I was a lot steadier on my feet, but my bad leg was still weak. So it wasn't technically a lie.

"No, it's not all the same. The healing isn't complete. You're still septic. If you don't have more blood you'll die. And I refuse to feed you my blood while you're… soiled." He gestured to my attire.

I looked down at my clothes, miffed at his rudeness. My t-shirt, once white, was now stained and grubby, not to mention my denim cut-offs had seen better days. But I choked when the full meaning of his words hit me half a second later.

"Feed me?! As in have me drink your blood? H-E-double-L no. There's no way I'm doing that." I backed away from him unsteadily; my legs moving in an involuntary response.

He closed the space between us, his long legs only needing to take a single step. His upper lip curled to show the top row of perfect teeth. A spark of something predatory ignited in his eyes. My mouth went sandpaper dry and I stood stock still.

Stand still, Sookie. Don't run. _Don't run_. Remember what Jessup taught you. There's nothing worse than running from a vampire.

"Oh yes, I think you will," he said darkly.

I shook my head, keeping my lips zipped. No use letting my big mouth get me into trouble too.

"It won't turn you into a vampire if that is your concern."

"No," I whispered, watching his mouth carefully. "But won't that… Won't that make me your pet?"

"I have no intention of taking a pet. Though my blood in you will mark you as mine."

"Yours? No, I can't be yours… The trade. That was the deal. Trade supplies for healing."

He chuckled, it was a low, dangerous sound. He moved close enough to lift a lock from hair from my shoulder.

"I don't recall agreeing to any such deal."

"You saw me make my offer! That was the deal you accepted by giving me your blood. It's not my fault you don't agree to the terms – because that is what they are."

He twirled the hair around his finger, his eyes dancing but his face as menacing as a carved mask. His unwanted touched annoyed me. I brushed his hand off me angrily, my energy improving with every second.

"And I am not drinking your damn blood."

He let his hand dangle in the air and for a nanosecond his expression flickered to a terrifying mix between suspicion, fury, and even briefly, shock. Figured. I bet he got his own way every day of the damn week. He'd probably never even heard the word no. I lifted my chin defiantly to show him I was serious.

He scared the bejesus out of me, but, I reasoned, if he was decent enough to explain to me what taking his blood would and wouldn't do then I didn't think he'd pin me down and force me to drink his blood. And it wasn't like he could glamour me into submission.

But I couldn't silence the small voice in my head screaming at me to be cool and telling me I was crossing into dangerous territory. I really should've listened to that voice.

"Listen to me, little girl," he ground out, grasping me by the arms and backing me up the few remaining paces up against the wall. I gasped when I hit the wall with a thud. "Let's get one thing straight. You need me. Not the other way around. I can leave you now, and I give you a week – at best. You will succumb to the infection that is fouling your blood and you will die a slow and painful death. Or you can drink my blood."

"And what? Become yours? Trapped inside this kitsch Florida coast version of Caesar's Palace?"

He scoffed in response, shaking his head slowly. "There are far worse places than here, let me tell you."

"You think I don't know that? I know what it's like out there."

"Then you agree there's no problem."

"What? No! It's still a huge problem. I'm not going to let you turn me into your blood slave."

"Did you not hear me?" he growled, squeezing my arms for emphasis. "You do not get to dictate the terms. I could just as soon heal you and toss you out to the rest of the nest for the picking. Take your chances with them and see if you fare any better."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Yes, I didn't think that would appeal. So, here's your new deal. You will drink my blood and then you will tell me who sent you - and what you are. Otherwise, I'll inform the others that we have a spy in our midst."

Excuse my French, but, oh fuck.


	4. Cure

Dinner was a small portion of grilled chicken, steamed greens and new potatoes, which I ate silently while Pam, sitting opposite me with her ankles crossed daintily, watched me like a hawk. It was unnerving. 

I got half way through the meal before rushing to the bathroom. It all came up in a few great heaves. I hadn’t been able to stomach much the last few days. Even water had to be sipped slowly. I was sad to flush it away. Meat was a luxury. 

Eric leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, arm crossed and eyebrow raised in an infuriating look that said ‘See?’

It hadn’t been pretty, the both of us yelling earlier. He’d snarled and stalked out of the suite when Pam had returned with food and clean clothes. Now, his countenance was more relaxed, his cheeks were a little pinker, hair tousled. And he was waiting for me to agree to his ‘deal’. I hated to admit it, but a part of me was grateful that he was still giving me the choice - waiting for my consent, even if he had backed me into a corner. 

I rinsed my mouth with water from the faucet, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked gray. Much worse than when I had left South Carolina. My leg was in much better condition though, with the gash mostly healed over and signs of visible infection nearly gone, but I still felt wretched. I knew his prediction was right. He’d healed the injury, but I was still suffering from septicemia. The blood he had given me had only bought me a little more time.

I thought of the little red brick house I called my own in River Rock. Of the people waiting for me. Particularly one. I would get back, regardless of the obstacles. I just needed to get better first.

“Okay,” I said to his reflection. He nodded once with a satisfied look and in the next blink the doorway was empty. 

From the other room, I heard the hushed tones of Eric and Pam speaking in their secret language, whatever it was. I took the opportunity to retrieve the items I’d stuffed down my pants earlier. I turned on the faucet loudly and spun on the spot looking for an ideal place to stash them. The items were only small. 

I slipped them inside the toilet roll holder beside the commode. I didn’t think vampires would ever think to check there. I returned to the sink and splashed my face with water before turning off the faucet off.

When he’d had me pinned against the wall earlier, I think I’d convinced him I wasn’t a spy. I wasn’t sure where on earth he got that notion from, but then again I wasn’t privy to the life and politics of vampires these days. More importantly, I’d managed to deflect the question about what I was by acting dumb. I just acted like I had no clue what he’d really meant. Not that I didn’t think he’d continue to interrogate me later once he could sense me with his blood… But I’d cross that bridge later. 

“Bath time.” Pam appeared in the doorway with a fluffy towel and a leer.

“A little privacy might be nice.” I snatched the towel from her hand. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“There isn’t any. That’s the point.” 

“Spoilsport. I’m under orders, but I can turn my back.” She turned around to face the wall and kicked the bathroom door shut with the toe of her heeled foot. 

I sighed, realizing the futility. 

The shower was out of this world. The pressure hard and water hot. I leaned against the tiled wall and let it beat against my back. Bathing at River Rock consisted of tepid baths and short, weak showers. I’m not a complainer, but this was heavenly in comparison. The shower was pretty fancy too, especially when I discovered the button for extra water jets. 

I washed my hair twice and massaged a generous amount of conditioner in the ends before picking up a wide toothed comb hanging off the caddy and untangling my long hair under the water. I shut off the water when my fingers began to prune. I had left my towel hanging over the glass door, but when I turned to step out Pam had the shower door open and the towel in hand, a mischievous smile on her lips.

“I retract my earlier statement. Your tits are magnificent.” The tips of her fangs had run out.

I yelped and tore the towel from her grasp, hurrying to cover myself up. I got out and dried quickly, turning my back to her and pulling on my new clothes from under my towel like I was back in my high school’s locker room after gym class.

To wear, Pam had acquired for me a pair of A-line shorts in deep plum red that stopped mid-thigh, with a black silk cami style top dotted with small flowers that matched the shorts. She insisted I tuck the top into my shorts. There was a black lace bra and underwear set. Not my usual style, but they all fit. The clothes and undergarments were all clean, though I couldn’t tell if they were new or not. Frankly, I had other worries to concern myself with. Catchphrase of the apocalypse, really. 

I was impressed with her ability to guess my size, and I told her as much. She made a spry comment about having a great deal of experience with the female form. Oh, brother. 

I towel dried and brushed my hair and finished by cleaning my teeth with the new toothbrush Pam passed me from the top drawer of the bathroom vanity. The packet was nestled amongst a large selection of makeup, lotions, and soaps. I still felt like death, but at least I felt like squeaky clean death. 

“There,” Pam said, sounding pleased as she led me out of the bathroom by the elbow. “The zombie movie extra is gone and she is replaced with a creature who looks almost as delicious as she smells.” 

I fought off the wave of panic and shook her hand free of my elbow. 

Eric was sprawled back on the settee, legs spread, one leg resting on the floor, the other bent and planted on the along the cushioned seat. He was enormous, just about dwarfing the three seater lounge. He had lost his leather jacket from earlier and seemed almost carefree and casual in his dark fitted jeans and v-neck t-shirt. I knew he was anything but. 

“Aren’t you sweet,” he said, his eyes taking me in. 

“Not especially,” I shot back. I hoped he was only referring to my change of appearance rather than my scent. 

He looked surprised for a moment, before laughing loudly. Beside me, Pam joined in. 

“So are we going to do this? I don’t have eternity, unlike the rest of y’all.” 

“Someone’s eager.” His words dripped with promise. Ugh. Hardly. Drinking blood didn’t rate very high on the list of things I was dying to do. Or scratch that, maybe it did. 

Pam cut in and spoke to him in the same foreign, and probably ancient, language before exiting the suite. She blew a kiss to me on her way out. Her abrupt change over the last hour from hostility to flirtation worried me greatly. 

Eric patted the space on the couch between his legs and asked me to come and sit. 

“That seems a little too… comfortable for me.” 

“Oh, you’ll want to be comfortable.” 

Good Lord, was everything he said laced with euphemism? I crossed my arms and tapped my toe. Eventually, he shifted his leg off the chaise onto the floor and motioned to the free space beside him. 

“Better?” 

“Much. Thank you.”

I sunk beside him, grateful to be off my feet and his arm came down immediately around my waist, cinching me close to his side. He twisted himself so I was laying flush against his chest. I wanted to care, I really did, but I was fading fast and I just wanted it to be over with. A small voice wondered if I also didn’t mind because he was as hot as hades. 

I stamped out that thought like a bug. He was good looking but terrifying and (let’s not forget) he was intending on keeping me here against my will. Not that he’d have much luck in that department. 

“The wound won’t stay open long, so make sure you suck hard.” His low voice tickled my ear and I could only nod in response. 

He moved his free arm and I heard a tear of fangs on flesh. His wrist appeared in front of me, blood already oozing from a wide gash he’d made and I pulled it to my mouth before I could second guess my decision. 

I sucked hard and to my surprise the blood flowed easily, filling my mouth. It was a startling mix of rich and heady sweetness. It was still faintly metallic, but not at all what I expected. It pulled me in along with his cologne, a cool masculine scent laced with whispers of something that reminded me of the ocean. The sensory experience was overwhelming and wrapped itself around me. My eyes fluttered closed.

Behind me, Eric’s chest vibrated with a low groan and the hand that held me across my waist began to massage my hip. His head dropped to the crook of my neck and he nuzzled me, drawing in my scent deeply. 

Something took root within me, a warm and satisfying prickle that carried itself from my chest right out to my extremities. I was healing. With the next pull, the sensations transformed, concentrating lower and a soft wave of pleasure rolled through me. I moaned against his cool skin. His free hand traveled up along my side, moving to explore the curve of my breast and I leaned reflexively into his touch. 

The scrape of fangs along my neck snapped me back to reality. I dropped his arm, mortified. The skin inside his wrist had long healed, with only a pale pink mouth-shaped mark left by my ongoing ministrations. Good grief, how long had I been sucking on him like a floozy? 

“Well, that was… something.” I cleared my throat and scooted away from him. My cheeks felt on fire. 

“Feeling better?” he smirked. His eyes were glazed and the evidence of our intimate encounter was straining tightly through the front of his jeans. Oh my, Eric the vampire was clearly proportional. 

I averted my gaze with a hurry when I realized I was staring. 

“Yes, thank you.” It was an understatement. With every passing second I felt better. Better than better – invigorated! I stretched out my bad leg and stared in wonder as the injury all but disappeared, leaving behind a pink and shiny scar. I traced my fingers across it. It wasn’t even raised. Sookie Stackhouse: 1, Rotten fence paling: 0. I grinned across at him and he mirrored my smile with an easy one of his own. 

“I forgot how good it feels to be healthy!” 

“My blood is powerful, you’re likely a little high.” 

I laughed cheerily and flopped back on the opposite side of the couch, arms outstretched. If there was snow here, I’d be making angels right now. 

“You won’t hear any complaints from me. After the week I’ve had, I’m just thrilled to feel like more than a walking corpse.” 

Eric looked amused and I clapped my hand over my mouth with a gasp.

“Oh my goodness, I did not mean it to come out like that!” 

His amusement turned into an outright laugh. He leaned forward across the settee and right over me, his arms straddling me either side. 

“Now, Sookie. I believe it’s time for you to fulfill your end of the deal.” 

His proximity and his words were as sobering as a bucket of ice. My good mood died and I threw my efforts into controlling my expression and emotions. Twenty-seven years as a telepath had given me a killer poker face. I just hoped I could bluff my way internally too. 

_Track, feel, heal._

Those were the three things I’d been told a vampire could do once I’d consumed its blood. The healing was obvious, the tracking I hoped not but had planned for it anyway (at least to get far enough away that he wouldn’t bother follow), and as for feeling my emotions… As long as I didn’t technically lie I think I could be convincing. 

“I told you already I’m not a spy.” 

“Who sent you?”

“No one.” 

“Bullshit meter says no.”

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. 

“Okay,” I huffed. “Full disclosure? It’s hardly the act of espionage that you’re making it out to be. I heard about the compound from a were in the community I’ve been staying in. He didn’t send me, but rather he told me the location when it looked like I wasn’t going to recover. It was still a gamble, I didn’t know if y’all would still be here or not.” 

“Who?” His dark blonde brow furrowed.

“Jessup. He was a patrol guard for the old king of Florida.” 

He considered my answer for a moment before nodding slightly. I wondered if he was checking his blood tie with me, like a magical lie detector. 

“What are you?” he asked.

“What do you even mean by that? I have no idea how to answer that.” I said, forcing my irritation. “I’m female. I’m a plague survivor. I’m human. I’m a terrible fence climber. I think these are all things we can clearly establish just by looking at me.” 

“Sookie, Sookie, Sookie… You forget I’ve tasted your blood.” He brought his nose down to my neck and I felt the tickle as he breathed me in. “And you have tasted mine. You are human - but you are also more.” 

“Louisianan?” I tried it inject humor into my tone, but I knew he would notice the spike in my heart rate.

He chuckled throatily in a way that set all my instincts on edge. I pushed against him and he let me through. I stood up shakily. 

“I think it’s my turn for questions now,” I said, just as it looked like he’d continue with his interrogation. 

He sat up, slinging his arms along the back of the settee and, with an interested look, gestured for me to go on like a king holding court.

“What are your intentions with me?” 

His brows raised in surprise and his mouth open and closed. I walked across to the small dining table where my cold dinner lay abandoned and sat down. I smirked inwardly.

“My intentions?”

“Yes.” I stabbed a small potato with my fork and popped it into my mouth. “Your intentions.” I was suddenly ravenous. 

“I – well,” he stumbled, looking caught off guard and searching for an answer, before leveling me with an unamused gaze. “Stop deflecting.” 

I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t spit my food as I laughed. Yep, definitely a little high. 

“Well,” I continued, “you’re not planning on keeping me as a pet but then you’ve basically implied I’m as good as stuck here. You know, what with me being a spy extraordinaire.” 

Instead of rising to the bait, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “How about, instead, you tell me if the name Bill Compton ring any bells?

Time stopped. I shook my head slowly, unable to breathe. Was shaking my head lying? Would he be able to tell? 

“Hmm,” he tapped his chin, “Isn’t that the funniest thing? Because right now my bullshit meter is skipping right off the charts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some technical issues posting this, hope you didn't catch that. 
> 
> Thanks for all the bookmarks and kudos. Feeling the love! Sorry about another chapter ending on a cliffhanger and more unanswered questions. I'll be posting the next one as soon as I finish proofreading it. So hopefully later tonight.


	5. Disclosure

My mind released a rapid stream of all the curse words in my vocabulary. Wisely for once, I managed to hold my tongue. I forced myself to take another (large) bite of food and sip of water; it gave me time to quickly think.

How on God's green earth had I fallen into the lap of a vampire from Northern Louisiana, one that knew Bill Compton? We were over a thousand miles away from Bon Temps! This had to be a sick joke. How exactly did he know of my connection to Bill Compton?

Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. It hit me.

Eric had shared a look earlier with the other vampire, Pam, when I told them about myself. It was a knowing one. They knew of me. Maybe not enough to recognize or even know my name, but enough to place me, no thanks to me stupidly revealing my old place of work and hometown… I scrambled with the pieces. What did it mean?

A sinking sense of dread settled in my stomach. I set my fork down.

I was foolish. Naïve. Too damn caught up in the new world to consider that the past could still come back to bite me on the ass. Too focused on not dying to consider what might happen once I was better and inside a compound surrounded by vampires. So much had happened between now and back then, I didn't think that I'd rate a second thought after the whole freaking world and humanity had collapsed.

Eric had said 'associates'… He'd moved east with his associates. Dollars to donuts, those associates were the same ones who sent Bill Compton, procurer, my way. Hot tears prickled my eyes.

Eric was still staring at me, looking all smarmy and triumphant. Like he'd bested me somehow. My eyes settled on the wooden leg of the chair opposite me. What were my chances of staking the asshole in the middle of his undead heart? Nil. Less than nil. I'd be dead before I'd even finish reaching for the chair, probably.

"Okay, you're right. I know of Bill Compton." The words came eventually. "I never had the pleasure of meeting him." That was the God's honest truth.

"Small world, indeed. Now, let me think… When was the last time I saw him?" He pursed his lips and pretended to think, as though the vampire species' almost perfect sense of recall wasn't a thing. "Hmm. Must have been more than two years ago, just as the virus was taking root. I met with him and he informed me of his move to Bon Temps. A funny time to move to the countryside, don't you think? Just as everyone is beginning to die?"

"I couldn't tell you. I never met the guy. Maybe he had a pet there?" Still not lying.

"No. No, pet. Interestingly, he disappeared just after that. Never seen again. And when I investigated, some remaining locals told me of how they had spotted him at Merlotte's."

They sure spotted him, alright. He walked right in and introduced himself to everyone. Asked after me. Sam had known of him; had been expecting him thanks to my letter from Hadley.

It was my night to work too. I should've been there, but I'd called in because Gran had fallen ill. And by some fluke Mack and Denise Rattray, the pond scum of Bon Temps, had grabbed Bill as he left, intent on draining him. Blood was meant to be the cure, after all - it was going for a high price. Too bad it useless as a screen door on a submarine when it came to curing the plague.

Sam found them out the back in the carpark draining Bill and instead of saving the vampire, he drove off the Rattrays and finished Bill off with a stake to the heart. Sam did it for me. And so Bill Compton, Bon Temps' most veteran resident and vampire of nasty intentions, was no more and thus had been unable to procure me for … whoever it was that wanted me.

Hadley, in her letter (and for reasons unknown), had chosen not to share the name of the individual who wanted me enough to send a procurer to steal me. The only clue was that they were vampire. Apparently my disability was a hot commodity on the vampire market. And I had foolishly hoped that was the last of it, and before I knew it my attentions were drawn elsewhere. While Bill was busy turning into dust, my world was falling down around me. Gran was dying – rapidly. Jason went next.

"Your associates," I said. "Who were the associates you moved here with?"

Without a pause, he replied: "The Queen of Louisiana and her retinue. You met her downstairs in the foyer."

I nodded, absorbing that little tid-bit. "And your role as a fellow associate was…?"

"Sherriff of the area I resided."

"How quaint." I tried to picture him in a dusty Stetson and gold star badge on his lapel. "And Bill was part of the Queen's retinue also?"

"Yes."

I picked up my fork again and continued eating. That answered one question, I suppose. Resignation filled me. The Queen of Louisiana wanted me.

Had I walked straight into the lion's den? Offering myself up willingly on a plate? But what were my choices, anyway? It was that, or death. And for all the effort the Queen put in trying to procure me, she sure didn't seem interested when I met her downstairs. Maybe I could pass under her radar completely.

But then there was Eric and Pam to contend with. Even if he was one of the Queen's sheriffs, Eric still didn't seem to know of my ability… Or my heritage. And I was sure Hadley would never have known about our fae heritage. Her sweet blood would've just been enough for her to be attractive to vampires.

"Bill Compton was the ancestor of Jesse Compton, the elderly neighbor next door to my family home," I said.

"Was?"

"Yes." A ghost of a smile formed. "And as I'm sure you already know, he was a procurer - the Queen's, it seems. He returned to Bon Temps, his ancestral home, with the intention of taking me. Stealing me away from my life. I was informed of it in advance, and my old boss staked him before he had the chance."

"The shifter?"

"Yes." It frankly didn't surprise me he knew Sam was a shifter.

"Who warned you of him?"

"Hadley Delahoussaye. My cousin."

A look of recognition crossed his face.

"You know her?" I asked, a glimmer of hope sparking at the thought of her being alive.

"She was the Queen's pet. They were lovers for a time; then later her child."

"Child?"

"Vampire child."

Not shocking, really. Hadley went off the rails in her teens; drugs, partying… We hadn't seen her for years. It was probably inevitable she would end up caught up with vampires. I almost laughed when I realized that it had been inevitable for me too.

"Is she still alive, well, undead and still existing?"

His lips quirked. "No, she met the true death along with many younger vampires in the struggles following the great death." Struggles. I guess that translated to an utter and almost complete loss of the vampire species' primary food source.

I finished my meal, wiping the corners of my lips against the cloth napkin. I folded it neatly and placed it on the empty plate. Eric watched my every movement. He could sense I'd settled on a decision.

"Why would the Queen need a procurer? How many people was she procuring that it warranted an entire job role dedicated to it?" I asked.

"Queen Sophie liked to collect humans, or any creatures, that she felt were of interest or rare."

"Collect. Like a stamp. Or a piece of civil war memorabilia. I'm a freaking collectible," I laughed hollowly. "Did she have a room where she displayed her collection in glass cases?" I held up my hand. "Actually. Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Eric shifted forward in his seat in anticipation. He knew his answer was close. I avoided his gaze, instead tracing my finger along the faint pink lines of my scarred thigh.

"Will you hand me over to your queen?" I whispered.

"She is no longer my queen. The monarchy was dissolved. Vampires are sovereign citizens, of a sort. At least until the new world is established."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I need all the facts before I can make an informed decision."

Silence grew between us. My mind raced ahead, plotting my next few steps. Then further onward, planning my actions once I escaped. I wouldn't be able to stay in River Rock. Not if I was a collectible; a rarity. Something to be coveted. Urgh, the idea was pretty gross. I would need to keep going. Canada, maybe? How much distance would I need to place between us to ensure safety? Before the blood tie was too stretched to find me?

"So that was her downstairs talking to me in the foyer? Couldn't she just demand that you hand me over?"

"That was her. The slight woman with red hair. And no, she may ask for you, but I am under no obligation to hand you over. Even when she held rank as queen she would have to abide by our customs and respect my claim on you."

"Claim? Can you even hear yourself?" It was horrifying. "I'm not property. You can't pass me back and forward like a casserole dish."

"We can – and we do," he said, his eyes dark. I just shook my head in disgust.

"It's you that rely on us to survive! We should be passing y'all around like property - like pets!"

His face morphed and he laughed loudly as if the thought was preposterous. "I suppose there is some truth to that."

I smiled, despite myself. Maybe vampires were not nearly as grim and serious as I imagined them to be. Or was just this one?

"Enough questions." He slapped his palm on the coffee table. I jumped. "Tell me why the queen wanted you."

We stared each other down. He was under no obligation to hand me to her. He said so himself, she was no longer his queen. But if he did, then I truly doubted my chances of escaping. The Queen, or whatever her status was now, may not lock me in a glass case, but I doubted she'd let me escape her grasp easily. At the very least it would add another hurdle to overcome on my way out of here.

And if Eric decided to keep me? I was a collectible. Telepaths were definitely rare, that's for damn sure. If my blood was as delicious as I was led to believe, then what motivation would he have for getting rid of me? Not less than an hour ago he had shown me the bedroom I was to sleep in. There were no cuffs on the bed, no bars on the windows. I could manage escaping, it'd be easy as pie with only that room to contend with. The decision came easily.

"I'm a telepath."

My hair blew around my shoulders as he blurred right up to me, his large hands gripping me either side. I froze, eyes wide.

"Can you read my mind?" he hissed, fangs bared.

"What do you think?" I kept my voice calm and neutral, trying my hardest not to shrink away from him.

He let go of my shoulders, still remaining close. His face was locked down, unreadable. I wished, for only the briefest of moments, that I could know what he was thinking.

"No. You can't," he said.

"I read humans easily. Too easily, if you ask me. Weres are a little trickier, their brains are fuzzy - like a radio station not tuned in quite right. I get the odd thought, or just feelings and images. But vampires? I get nothing. All I feel is a patch of emptiness where your thoughts ought to be. Like a void."

I stared in morbid fascination at his fangs snicked back into place. My eyes drifted lower. There was a faint scar on his chin, a thin pale line where the faint shadow of his stubble refused to grow. My fingers tingled at the thought of touching it. I wondered if it was a relic from his life as a human.

"You won't give me to the Queen," I said. I endured three of the longest seconds of my life before he finally shook his head.

"No."

"I'm not going to feed you," I challenged, lifting my chin.

"Not until you want to," he said, tracing a finger down along the column of my neck. "And you will want to."

Good Lord. I didn't dare dignify that comment with a response, though I couldn't stop the shiver that passed through me.


	6. Liability

Sunshine was peeking from behind the thick drapes covering the window. I groaned and rolled over in bed to face the other way. I’d hoped to just fall unconscious and make up for the endless nights of fitful sleep I’d withstood since getting sick. No such luck.

Instead, I’d spent all night burdened by dreams of a six-foot-something blonde vampire caught in all sorts of sinfully compromising positions with myself. The dreams were steamier than some of the steamiest bodice ripper books I’d read – and I’ll freely admit I’ve read quite a few of those during my adult life prior to the great death.

I could still feel the weight of him on me, the cool softness of his lips on my body, the scrape of fangs on my neck… the feel of him in between my legs. I grabbed the other pillow beside me and pulled it onto my face. Argh! This had better not be a regular occurrence. 

As the leftover echoes of my dreams faded, I finally got out of bed. I still felt like a million bucks compared to the previous day, but now with the blood high having faded, I could still tell I wasn’t completely 100%. Moving still required extra effort, even though I had no limp now. I would tire quickly today. 

Before I’d gone to bed, Eric had said he still might need to give me more of his blood. I was skeptical and had told him as much. I took it all back when I saw my face in the mirror in the light of day. The dark circles and glazed look hadn’t completely disappeared from my eyes. I was still unwell. I sighed. I’d had my heart set on leaving today. If he had to give me more blood then so be it. Particularly if I meant I would be stronger and faster when it was time for me to leave. If I improved as much tonight as I had last night, I could leave as early as tomorrow morning.

I cast out my mental net while showering and shaving, and picked up on two faint blips within the suite somewhere on the other side of the sitting room. Pam and Eric. It felt fainter than their mental presence while awake, but it had the distinct imprint that I now recognized as a vampire's. 

I wondered about their relationship. Were they mates? Maker and child? This seemed most likely to me, judging the way they had responded to one another the night before. Pam seemed to respect and obey Eric’s word, even if she did it huffily. Maybe they were siblings to the same maker. 

I blow dried my hair and let my mind wander further down to the lower floors of the mansion. I skipped from one mind to another, listening to the thoughts and dreams of the other humans within the building. Their thoughts were bland, inane and … kinda creepy. It was how I imagined thoughts sounded of people blissfully trapped in cults. There was an oddly false veneer of ignorant happiness to their inner musings. 

One man was counting down the minutes until his master was awake… Master? Was that what they called their vampire mates? Ew. Another was eating lunch with an older dark-haired woman on a garden patio near a large pool, she was thinking how extremely grateful she was for the food, while simultaneously trying not to worry about the fact she’d already given too much blood for the week. A part of her believed one of the vampires would see her as a waste of resources and drain her. I came across a mind that was full of strange holes, humming a show tune and focused on cleaning a room full of beds and day lounges. It was a harem. The vampires fed from donors and did … other things there. I suppressed my shudder. 

I kept moving from person to person, listening in until I stumbled across the thoughts of one woman reliving a close and personal encounter with Eric. He was drinking from the inside of her thigh while he… Nope. I backed out of her mind quickly. I really did not want to see that. Vampire Eric had tainted enough of my mind for one day, thank you very much. 

The suite did not look nearly as gaudy in the bright light of day, but my eyes were immediately drawn to the view. The glass doors leading to the balcony were cleverly built into the middle arching window of the sitting room that overlooked the water. I was thrilled to find the key in the lock when I tried the handle. I wondered if it was always there or if Eric had left it for me? 

“Do not leave the suite, under any circumstances,” he’d ordered me the night before. Did this count? I found I didn’t care either way. We were on the top floor. Not like anyone could look down and see me, and the breeze would blow my scent away by nightfall. 

The warm air hugged me like a soft robe when I stepped out onto the balcony. I walked to the edge and leaned against the wrought iron railing and took a deep breath. Tears filled my eyes and a wide grin spread. I was alive! The sun was beating down on me and the beach was just amazing. Turquoise water, pale sand, and not a soul in sight. The mansion was maybe less than fifty yards from the beach. Tantalizingly close. I wished I could pop there like I’d seen Great-Grandfather Niall pop from one place to another.

Instead, I found a folded up banana lounge leaning against the parapet at the side and dragged it across to the center of the balcony. I ducked back inside to grab a book from the wooden shelf beside the large screen TV and went back out. I laid down on the lounge and pulled up the hem of the teal shift dress I’d found in the closet to wear, and exposed my legs and stomach to the sun. I sighed happily. Everything was beginning to feel right again.

I drifted off under the sunshine when the enjoyable warmth overwhelmed my interest in the novel, and I decided only to relocate inside when the sun had moved behind the mansion. The shadows were growing longer as sunset approached. I felt revitalized spending an afternoon sunbaking. Like it had recharged me, in a way. I checked myself for sunburn but was just pleased to see that only my tan was returning. 

Back inside, I nearly cried when I found a fruit platter, an honest to goodness fruit platter (with more than one type of fresh fruit!), left out on the dining table while I’d been resting on the balcony. I completely ignored the accompanying plate of sandwich fingers and just took the pitcher of water also set out and the fruit with me back to my bed. I fiddled with the television until I got some late 2000s action movie going on the DVD player. Mod cons! What a blast from the past. 

I threw the window wide open so the sea breeze could flow through, and then bounced back onto the bed, settling with the platter on my lap. The fruit was a mix of orange segments, guava, strawberries, and thick slices of cucumber cut into cookie-cutter flower shapes. 

I moaned with the first bite of orange that burst in my mouth. It was juicy and so much more flavorful than what I ever remembered it to be. Nearly two whole years I’d gone without eating an orange. Two years! The craving I’d been harboring for them this whole time was colossal. 

I made my way methodically through the whole platter, using the cucumber as bite-sized palate cleansers between the fruit pieces. I barely even took notice of the movie playing. I chewed slowly, savoring each and every bite, committing the flavors and each sweetness to memory. I saved a final segment of orange for last. It felt like it was as close to heaven on Earth as you could get. 

After tonight, my choices of fresh fruit would be back to apples or apples, and then I’d be waiting on summer to return again for the peaches and plums that grew on the neighborhood trees in River Rock. That was if I was able to stay there. I doubted Canada had much more to offer in terms of variety. 

I felt a void at the bedroom door and looked across to see Eric darkening it. He was barefoot in dark jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt, his hair still damp and mussed from showering. 

“What have you been doing?” His eyes darted between me and the empty plate with an intense curiosity. 

He’d probably been feeling my emotions through the blood tie and I chuckled at the realization. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been up but it hadn’t been dark for long.

“I’ve been enjoying myself,” I replied, wiping my fingers on the napkin beside me. His brows raised. I could see I hadn’t answered the question at all to his satisfaction. 

“Did you sleep well?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Vampires do not sleep, Sookie.” He moved to sit down at the foot of the bed. 

“Oh.” My brows furrowed. “Then what do you do?” 

“We die for the day.” 

My furrow progressed to a frown. “I don’t know about that. I could still feel yours and Pam’s presence in the next room.” I tapped my temple to indicate the type of feeling I was referring to. “I don’t think that would happen if you were completely dead to the world.” 

“Perhaps you’re right.” He lay on his side and supported his head on his hand, considering my observation with a thoughtful look. “And how did you sleep?” 

The suggestiveness in his tone was unmistakable. Bastard! He knew about my dreams. I had suspected it was his blood’s influence but now I knew for sure. I felt my face flush.

“Just fine, thank you,” I replied breezily, swatting his fingers away when they moved to stroke the inside of my ankle. “And I’m actually feeling much better now. I spent some time sunbaking and I’ve been feeling better with every passing moment. I’m not sure if I even need more of your blood.” 

It was true. I had a suspicion it was to do with my fairy heritage. 

“May I?” He held out his open palm to me in invitation. 

After a short hesitation, I laid my hand in his. His hand dwarfed mine and I watched uneasily as he repeated the actions from the previous evening, running his nose along the inside of my wrist. His fangs dropped so fast it had to be an involuntary response. He continued moving his nose along the inside of my palm breathing me in, before pricking a fang against my finger tip. Blood beaded and he sucked the tip into his mouth. 

He made a noise that was very close to how I sounded eating my orange. His cool tongue swiped along my finger and he sucked hard on the small wound. My heart skipped in in fear and… something else I felt entirely too uncomfortable to name. It brought me back to that girl’s thoughts, with Eric’s head buried inside her thighs as she moaned in pleasure. I suppressed a gasp and pulled my finger from his mouth. 

“I believe you’re right.” He opened his eyes, watching my retreating hand like it was abandoning him, before meeting my gaze. “You’ve healed remarkably well.” 

“It’s all thanks to you,” I smiled, praying I didn’t look as ruffled as I felt. I stood, smoothing my dress and nodded towards the sitting room, walking out to the return water pitcher and empty platter. I desperately needed to put space between the two of us. 

I sat down at the table and poured myself another glass of water. I was surprised to see through the great windows that it wasn’t completely dark outside, the sky still lit with cool shades of twilight. Curiously, I could feel Pam’s presence was inert on the other side of the door leading to her bedroom suite. 

“Is this early for you to be up?” I asked. 

Eric had flopped down onto the settee. He raised a brow questioningly at me. 

“It still feels like Pam is still asleep…” I clarified. “Well, dead for the day. And it’s not completely dark outside, too.”

He narrowed his eyes at me as if deciding whether or not to share the answer.

“I am much older than Pam, and with age, I am able to better resist the pull of the sun.” I filed that piece of information away. I would need to factor it into when I made my escape.

“So you’re a senior citizen even in vamp terms, huh?” 

His lips thinned at my dig but I got the impression he wasn’t really insulted. 

“Age is respected and revered among vampires. It is what makes my blood so powerful. Powerful enough to heal you, especially in one feeding. Not many make it to my age.” 

“So if a younger vampire had healed me…?” I thought back to the Queen’s words the night before. She said that curing me would be no sure thing. 

“They may have had to turn you to keep you from dying for good.”

The thought rattled me, and I forced myself to take a sip water. A drop of moisture carved a path downwards along the outside of the glass. I didn’t think I’d ever want to be a vampire. My love affair with the sun nixed any possibility of existing without it. My thoughts drifted towards the significance of being turned… Not for me, but rather for vampires. 

“But they wouldn’t let me be turned, would they?” I looked back up at him. 

He shook his head slowly, almost cautiously. I wondered if he was giving away more than he was allowed. 

“How could they justify a new vampire being made when there’s barely enough blood to feed the ones that remain?” I mused, more to myself than for his benefit. 

When the world was shutting down, when all that was known of the outside world was spotty reports coming in from radio news, I’d heard an unconfirmed report of mass vampire cullings. The youngest of the vampires were staked, ‘met the true death’ I think was the PC term. They said it was a necessary measure to quell the danger to the remaining human population. Younger vampires needed more blood than older ones. 

Apparently, it was sanctioned by the federal government (or what remained of it) as well as the AVL: the American Vampire League. I wasn’t sure if any of it was true, though I could admit it made sense. I shivered. That was a grisly thought. Ethnic cleansing.

“How many humans are here?” I asked. 

“At the palace?” he queried. I nodded. “Nearly two dozen reside here. The rest of southern tip of the island beyond the compound gates is powered now, and a further hundred or so humans and weres reside in the other homes there amongst vampires.” 

I whistled low. That was a lot more than I had anticipated outside of the mansion. Was it all guarded? How many were guards would I have to evade to leave here? 

I thanked my lucky stars that the mansion here wasn’t too far from the gates. I hadn’t detected anyone outside patrolling the northern part of the island when I first arrived. I was hoping that if I could clear the gates, then I’d be safe to keep going.

“And is the community you reside in very big?” he asked. His fingers casually toyed with the fringe of the tapestry cushion beside him. 

I felt my hackles rise. I forced myself to breathe normally, knowing he could hear my heartbeat and was very likely hyper-aware of my emotions. Was he probing for information? New food sources? I floundered with how to answer, he would know if I was lying, but I couldn’t tell the truth. 

River Rock was by no means big, but it was a community of people who were living safely. Vampires had apparently been a problem when the first few dozen people arrived and settled, but that was months before I showed up. As far as what was heard on the slow moving rumor mill, most vampires had settled into compound style communities like this ones. The days of rogue, murderous and starved vampires was over. But still, I couldn’t even allow for the potential threat and safety risk of revealing the community where I lived. 

And there was one person in particular that I needed to protect. 

“Did you listen in today?” Pam asked, making me jump. She had zipped over to join Eric on the couch before I could answer his question. She was dressed in a pair of seafoam green silk pajamas and just brimming with eagerness.

I’d promised her the evening before to listen in on the humans through the day for any exciting or juicy gossip. Turns out if you’re a vampire, and thus not privy to the daytime hours, there is an insatiable need to know exactly what’s going on. Or maybe Pam just held an insatiable appetite for gossip. 

I looked between the two before choosing to answer Pam.

“Yes, and there’s nothing nearly as exciting as you’d think. Other than a lot of unhealthy levels of vampire worship.” I curled my nose. “Although, I may have heard something about a certain Amber who thought of you in very favorable terms. She was wondering how she could give her current vampire the flick without causing trouble.” 

“Oh, really.” Pam grinned like the cat who got the cream, even going as far as to rub her hands together. “But where’s the fun when there’s no trouble? I can see things are going to be much more entertaining with you around, little telepath.”

I frowned disapprovingly and told her I wasn’t interested in being party to causing mischief. I felt a lot like Gran in that moment. Pam pretended to pout, before steering the conversation to all the inventive ways she could get the donors to fight over her. I focused on smiling politely and tried not to let my gaze wander across to Eric, who I could feel from my periphery was burning holes into my head. I didn’t like that look. It was a look of someone trying to work me out.

I excused myself when Pam’s suggestions started to get bloodier and retired to the bedroom with my book, a worn copy of The Bloody Chamber. After reading the blurb, I’d chosen it off the shelf as a bit of a joke on my heritage and current situation. The book was a collection of fairy tales reimagined in a gruesome and adult fashion, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it an absorbing read. I stretched my legs out against the soft cotton of the sheets and sighed. Right now, if I didn’t think too hard about where I was and what I needed to do, today had felt almost like a vacation. 

The cordless phone out in the sitting room rang after a while, and I heard hushed tones speaking before Eric stuck his head in the door. 

“We have to head downstairs for a while. Stay in. Do not leave the suite.” He was back to serious vampire mode, his face stern and cold.

I mock saluted him with a roll of the eyes behind his back as he walked away. I’d already heard his sharp lecture on leaving the night before, and it wasn’t like I could without some effort anyway; the suite door was reinforced, dead-bolted and required a pin. There was definitely no expectation that I’d be able to just up and walk out the door. Although… 

“Wait – will I have to formally meet the other vampires at some point?” The question was a legitimate one, but I wasn’t truly interested in the answer. I leaped up to meet them at the door. The reality was as long as I didn’t meet with the other vampires tonight, I would be in the clear. I just needed to see the door. It might make my getaway tomorrow morning a lot easier than planned.

“You’re still recovering,” Eric said, turning to me. “When your health has returned it will be expected that you will be introduced properly. Every human must contribute to the community, so you will have to be added to the roster of tasks.”

Eric punched in the door code into the little touch pad numeric display beside the door and I leaned up on my tippy-toes for a better view, only to back off when I saw Pam observing me from the corner of her eyes. Damn it. Something heavy inside the door shifted, and after a hiss and click Eric pulled the door open. It revealed a wide hallway with another door of the same style on the opposite side of the hall. 

“Every human? What about the vampires? Or do y’all keep busy just sitting around on your hands every night?” 

Pam shot me a peevish look as she followed Eric out the door. She was out of her pajamas and dressed in a mauve twinset with fitted slacks. Vampire couture wasn't anything like I'd imagined. No leather or chains, just twinsets and jeans with t-shirts instead. 

“Hold up,” I grabbed the door before it shut behind them. It was the heavy sort you found in hotels that closed by itself. I checked the hallway quickly, it was empty. “Please tell me you’re not planning on telling them about my…” 

“No,” Eric said firmly. “That would be unwise. Especially while you are still weakened.”

I let out a breath of relief and smiled gratefully. I stepped back in and let go of the door.

“And Sookie?” came Eric’s voice. “The door pin code requires a fingerprint to unlock. So don’t bother.” 

The door shut abruptly in my face. I stood, mouth open. 

Well, bully for him. I didn’t catch the pin code, anyway. His fingers were too fast.

* * *

The room was still dark when I woke, there was a figure beside me, crouching by the bed rattling something. 

“Eric?” I asked, pulling myself up to sit. 

“No, it’s Pam.” Her voice was soft, composed. 

After Eric and Pam had left, I hadn’t seen them for the rest of the night. Dinner had been delivered to the suite by a suspiciously chatty girl, roughly my age. The girl, Missy, sat with me while I ate, making polite conversation and asking after me in a casual, yet pointed way. Her mind had also had the same holey sensation I’d come across through my mental wanderings through the day. I had a sneaking suspicion she’d been glamoured to dig for info on me. 

I had to laugh at Eric. It was underhanded and actually a pretty woefully poor attempt at finding out information about me. So, I took the opportunity. I had fun lying my butt off to the poor girl, telling her wildly outlandish stories about where I lived and with whom, the things I did with my spare time, all of which she absorbed like it was perfectly normal information. 

“What are you doing?” I whispered back to Pam. 

Cool hands wrapped around my wrist, and she pulled it close to her. Alarm bubbled up within me, sweeping away the last vestiges of sleep. 

“What I’m told.” I felt the cold snap of metal cuffs around my wrist and heard the twist of a key. “Eric doesn’t trust you to stay put, so he’s resorting to traditional methods. It’s necessary, his words.” 

“What? How is this necessary?!” My voice rose. I tugged at the cuff as she snapped the other side to what sounded like a chain. Pam switched on the bedside lamp. There was a large length of chain now attached to me and the bed. 

“You have enough slack to access your bathroom. Food will be brought directly to your bedroom through the day.” 

“You’re chaining me? Like a dog?” I lifted my arm to examine the chain. It was thick and heavy, the other end cuffed to the metal framework of bed’s headboard. I couldn’t believe it. I rattled the chain hoping it might disappear, so then I could just realize this was all an awful, appalling dream. 

From what I’d seen of them both, Eric and Pam had seemed so normal, almost like regular people and not at all like what I imagined vampires to be. They laughed and joked and chatted with me. They hadn’t forced me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. Well, other than Eric blackmailing the knowledge of my ability out of me, but even then he had presented me with a choice. But chaining me…? 

“Not like a dog. Like a human who is a liability. Don’t worry, Eric will un-cuff you at sunset… Unless you want him to leave it on, that is.” 

“What do you mean ‘a liability’?” I asked, ignoring her innuendo. 

“Eric is concerned you will leave before he’s had adequate time to woo you.”

“You’re joking, right? That’s sick. It’s inhumane!” 

“Why, thank you,” she purred. “As for the chains, you can make your case tomorrow at nightfall. Eric is quite taken with you, I’m sure you can find some way to convince him. I’m more than happy to show you pointers if you wish?” She rattled the chain suggestively and dropped her eyes to my chest. 

“Get out,” I hissed, pulling the covers up over my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my nightgown so they were on display more than usual. 

I sent feelers out and detected Eric’s presence moving within his bedroom chamber. 

“You’re a cowardly, rat bastard, Eric!” I yelled towards his door on the other side of the suite. “Sending your lackey to do your dirty work? And you’re as clueless as a door knob if you think this is how you woo a woman!” 

His void stilled. I balled my fists, suppressing the urge to screech in rage. 

“Oh, Sookie. You’re the best thing that’s happened all apocalypse,” Pam tittered delightedly as she left the room, shutting and locking the door behind her.


	7. Escape

The chain was a pain in the ass to sleep with, but I managed to doze for a few restless hours. Part of me would’ve rather I'd just dealt with the sleep deprivation and give up on sleep entirely. Stupid dreams… But, if I was going to make a break for it I needed as much rest as possible. And to eat.

The sun was well over the glittering Atlantic when breakfast was brought in. It was Missy again, and the almond-eyed brunette regarded me with a scowl, leaving the breakfast tray at the foot of the bed just out of my reach, meaning I had to haul the chain onto my lap and crawl for it. 

“Oh, you’ll get over it,” I said, after a quick dip into her thoughts. I settled against the headboard with the tray in my lap. “If you hadn’t been glamoured with such a heavy hand, you would’ve worked out I was lying.” 

“You made a fool of me!” she hissed. “Mr. Northman was not pleased.” 

“Eric? Oh, I bet he wasn’t,” I smirked, taking a bite of my oatmeal. It was topped with pureed apple and cinnamon. 

“You bitch, I told him you were a direct relation to the Pillsbury Doughboy!” 

I grabbed my napkin to stop myself spitting my oatmeal all over the bed with laughter. Oh man, I wished so badly I was there to see it. And that was only one of the many lies I’d told her.

“What’s your problem, anyway? You got a thing against vampires? You know, they’ve helped provide a life for us survivors here.” She crossed her arms defensively. “We aren’t slumming it like some people out there, living off tinned food, struggling through cold winters.” 

“I wouldn’t call living out there slumming it. It’s quite nice, actually.”

“I bet it’s nicer here. And you’re lucky it’s Eric Northman that’s interested in you,” she said, sinking down to sit at the bottom of the bed. “Some of the other vampires are just…” Her face screwed in disgust as she thought of a sallow-faced vampire with pockmarked skin and a deadened stare. I shivered.

“Seems like they get the better deal out of it, don’t you think? Blood on tap and you guys do all the hard work around here,” I said.

“They got the power going, fixed all the sanitation and water problems. They protect us from intruders, other nastier vampires. It’s more than fair.” 

“And what happens if you decide to leave? Or if a vampire has decided you’re no longer worth the trouble of keeping you here?” 

“That doesn’t happen.” Her defensive stance shifted, her eyes darting away from me.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve just never heard about it.” 

She stood and walked to the door, ready to be done with the conversation. It was that same cult member style of avoidance and denial. Everything was perfect here as long as you didn’t think about the horrific parts. 

“Before you go, would you mind telling me what Pam and Eric said when you reported to them?” I shouldn’t be curious. I had no reason to be, but a piece of me was just dying to know.

"I don't know, I can't really remember. I guess they didn't really say anything,” she said. Her mind was blank with glamour. But I caught a little something at the edges of her empty thoughts. I wondered if it was just a matter of how I worded my question. 

“You said Eric was angry. How else did he react? Did you see anything?” 

“He was pissed.” She shrugged, reaching for the door handle. “He got mad at me and then sent me away. Not much else to say, really.”

Her mind opened up to me like a magnolia blooming. I slipped right in, picking through what she saw. Eric was frustrated, his fist coming down hard on a workbench inside a dimly lit garden shed. Pam was watching him with thinly disguised glee and he’d snapped something angrily at her. But where there should have been the memory of words and conversation, there were none. It was like watching a silent movie. He’d probably commanded Missy to forget everything she’d heard. Silly vampire. He didn’t realize I could still see it.

I couldn’t imagine what Gran would think of me at that moment, but I got a wicked thrill at seeing how much I’d riled him up.

“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused, Missy.” I made sure to catch her eyes and smile sympathetically. “You’re probably right about having it good here. It’s just a lot for me to take in, that’s all. You know, you’re the first human I’ve talked to since arriving. I’d never even met a vampire before I came here.”

“It’s alright. I know how overwhelming it can be.” She smiled back, her thoughts softening towards me slightly as she thought back to her own arrival at the compound. “Vampires are temperamental at the best of times. But you’ll like it here, I promise.” 

"You think?" 

"Oh, definitely. And letting them feed from you isn't that bad either." She leaned forward through the doorway to whisper loudly, "especially if they're into you." 

"I'll have to take you on your word for that." I raised my brows to convey my shock, though I witnessed exactly what she meant yesterday in the minds of others during my mental wanderings. She gave me a knowing look, no doubt recounting some of her more enjoyable encounters, but I decided in that moment it was just better if I kept my mental shields up. Some things just couldn't be unseen. 

“Maybe once things have settled we can hang out at the beach or something?" I asked. "It looks incredible out there." 

“I’d like that; sounds fun. And wait till you see the swimming pools.” Her pleased tone reflected her thoughts. She believed she had succeeded in warming me up to living here among vampires, she secretly hoped that Eric would be pleased with her. She moved to shut the door behind her.

“Missy, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind leaving the door open? I don’t think I could bear being cooped in here all day with the door shut. It’d be so nice to just see a little glimpse of ocean from my bed with it open…” 

I held my breath. Had I been laying it on too thick? 

She looked uncertain, glancing at her hand on the door’s handle and then out to the balcony windows. 

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere!” I lifted my wrist and jangled the chain. She laughed and agreed, leaving the door, and my path to freedom, wide open. 

* * *

I wolfed down breakfast after she left and headed straight to the en suite bathroom attached to my room. Once I managed to awkwardly navigate the toilet and use the basin to wash my hands and brush my teeth, I spent a minute examining myself in the mirror. I barely recognized myself, but not at all in the way I was expecting. 

Yesterday, I still didn’t feel one hundred per cent and so while I knew I didn’t look crash hot, I also didn’t take the time to really examine myself too closely. But today? I looked like the best possible version of myself. My blonde hair was shiny and smooth, my tan even and strong, in fact, my complexion appeared almost flawless with barely a pore visible. My blue eyes popped with color, and even my teeth were whiter. I gently prodded my face, lifting my top lip to examine my teeth. It was Eric’s blood. It was like some sort of magic beauty elixir. 

Alright, no more distractions, I told my reflection. It was go time. 

I retrieved my items tucked inside the toilet roll holder. First item was a fake credit card that contained lock picking tools (it sat nice and flat in a pocket), second was a small pocket utility knife, and the last item, a pen light. 

I laid the items on the counter beside the basin. I lifted my cuffed wrist and examined it under the vanity light. Unfortunately, the regular lock pick wouldn’t suffice for handcuffs, but lucky for me, almost every type of handcuff was the same stock standard variety of Smith & Wesson, and I was in just the right place to pick it. 

I pulled open the drawer of the vanity, the one Pam had retrieved my toothbrush from. What I needed was already waiting for me. From the back of the drawer, I withdrew a small container. Bobby pins – for blonde hair no less. I chose a pin and sat down on the tiled floor. 

I pulled apart the prongs, then used my teeth to remove the plastic nib at the end of the straight side. I poked the end into the lock, bending it just so with counter pressure. I needed to shape it in just the right way to use it as a phony key. I removed it from the barrel of the lock and lifted the pin to assess the end. 

I was fairly certain I did a passable job of shaping it. While I had experience with picking plenty of different locks, I’d only read about how to pick handcuffs. I knew it was pretty easy to do, provided you had a little time and patience. 

I inserted the pin into the lock shaft and turned clockwise, disengaging the double lock, and then reinserted the pin again feeling for the internal lip of the locking mechanism. This was the fiddly bit. I held my breath and closed my eyes, feeling for that sweet spot. The pin slipped under the lip and I lifted it, turning it counter-clockwise. It took a few tries but sure enough, the cuff slipped loose and fell off. 

I let out a whoop and jumped up. 

I ran to the closet and picked out a pair of gray tweed high-waisted shorts (not even remotely my style, but the only thing with pockets) and pulled on a nude colored cami to wear under a long sleeved sheer blouse in deep purple. There wasn’t a sneaker in sight, but out of the collection of shoes Pam had provided for me, there was a pair of suede lace-up oxfords in black. They would do. 

I changed quickly, pocketing my items and reapplied deodorant. I would’ve loved one last shower, but my time for relaxation was behind me. I paused in the doorway as I left the bedroom and looked back. I chewed my bottom lip, a little idea percolating. 

I went back to the closet and grabbed a great armful of clothes and used them to fashion a Sookie-shaped lump under the blankets. I tucked the chained cuff under there too. It was terrible, there was no way they’d actually fall for it, but that was the point. One last screw you. 

I found a pen and pad beside the cordless phone in the sitting room and scrawled a quick note, _So long and thanks for all the blood_. I left it beside the lump of blanket and clothing that made up my faux sleeping head. I made sure to lock the bedroom door behind me. 

The key had disappeared from the balcony door lock, but I rectified that situation quickly with my tools. Yet another simple twist locking mechanism. My bedroom door was the same. Hilarious really, since breaking into the suite door was close to impossible from the hallway. It seemed like a huge oversight. Although admittedly, Pam and Eric’s light-tight rooms had the same fortified doors as the entry to the suite. It was all the protection they probably needed from humans and weres during daylight hours. 

The old pre-plague Sookie hadn’t the foggiest idea on lock picking or navigating unknown buildings, but like many things in the new world, it had suddenly become a vital skill. In some places, breaking glass windows and letting yourself through was often the most direct route, but as I’d discovered first hand climbing that shoddy fence, climbing was risky. 

The things that killed you in a post-civilization world were the risks you took. Falls, cutting an artery, failing to treat infections in time – that sort of thing. Being able to unlock a door and let yourself in, thus avoiding the mess and risk, was the most sensible and safest option. 

On top of that, if you’re looking for a safe place to stay a night or two, the ability to enter a home and not leave a tell-tale hole in the window and trail of broken glass afforded you a degree of safety. Then there were some places, like hospitals and police stations, which held valuable items but were next to impossible to break into without picking locks. 

After scanning the grounds in front and out on the beach with my mind, I dragged a dining chair out onto the balcony and pulled myself up onto the roof. It wasn’t too steep, but I moved carefully, keenly aware of the three storey drop. Keeping low, I scrabbled easily up the side, stopping halfway. I pulled away several of the roofing tiles and, using my knife, cautiously cut through the insulation, wary of any wiring that may be lurking underneath. 

I dropped into the roof cavity and pulled the tiles back into place as best as I could. I felt guilty about creating any extra work for the humans residing in the mansion. I put away my knife and pulled out the pen light, and began navigating my way across the vast roof space, stepping as quietly as I could. 

The vampire blood was making every effort so much easier. I could feel it in the lightness of my step, the ease in hoisting myself up onto the roof, and even in my ability to focus. It wasn’t just fast healing, shiny hair and improved complexion; it was an improvement in almost all departments. Except sleep, I thought with a burst of annoyance. 

The top floor must have housed most of the vampires, as I came across over a dozen inert voids at rest below me while walking along the beams, but there were also a couple of human minds occupied with daily tasks. 

I finally found the ceiling hatch to the third floor and dropped down into a walk-in linen closet. I waited a few moments, replacing the hatch and feeling for the minds on the lower floors trying to make sense of the building’s layout just by how they moved around. I located a stairwell in the corner of the upper floor, someone was walking down them, their shift in elevation registering. 

I straightened my clothes, brushing off the dust, and moved quickly down the corridor to the stairs. I paused at the stairs and gave myself a pep talk before going down, I had to act completely cool and pray that I didn't bump into Missy or anyone else that might realize I'd broken free of my restraints. Down on the second floor, there were more humans, but other than the odd curious look, I walked through unnoticed, keeping my chin up and confidence in my step. 

I took the steps two at a time down the large sweeping marble staircase to the first floor where I’d seen the vampire Queen on the first night, and then walked through a side entrance and past a large laundry to outside, where a collection of swimming pools spanned an area almost as large as the mansion itself. Missy was right about the pools. The swimming area looked like a tropical paradise, it even included a faux-lagoon and enormous slide. It was impressive. Like a luxury resort.

Once I was past all the pools, I slowed my pace, making it look like I was exploring the grounds while keeping a tight track on the few humans that were swimming and lounging, as well as the weres that were stationed loosely around the property. So far I’d avoided them. I reached the hedge that divided the mansion’s property from the next one and snuck through. 

I paused in the safety of the darkness within the hedge and took a minute to collect myself. Adrenaline and hot tingling anxiety were pumping right through to my fingers and toes. I pushed my way through the hedge, getting scratched up in the process and stepped into the yard of the neighboring property. I quickly ran across the open grass and ducked across the road into the next hedge. 

It wasn’t busy outside, but I detected minds around me, vampire voids at rest and humans inside homes. My brain skipped across all the minds within mental-viewing vicinity, listening to them on a repeating round, making sure I wasn’t at risk of being spotted. It was dizzying but I had to cover myself. 

I made my way through another two neighboring yards and finally found the huge brick dividing fence that I’d been stopped at on my first night on the island. It wasn’t as high as I remembered, so again, I pilfered a chair from the closest house, this time an outdoor one, and used it to climb over. I lowered myself down the other side, far enough away from the guards at the gate that I wouldn’t be noticed. I listened in on their minds. There were no discernible thoughts, other than fuzzy feelings of boredom and a mild interest in something they were discussing. I caught a flash of an image. Ah. Football. 

I continued on through my quick and quiet hedge-bashing path from yard to yard, my brain working on overdrive scanning for anyone near me. I was half expecting to hear that were-guard on the bullhorn telling me to stop and put my hands up. I finally made it to the mansion where I stored my back up transport. I could’ve kissed that hedge, my things were exactly where I left them. Solar powered electric bicycle. A black backpack filled with urban survival items. 

I put on the pack and lightly jogged the bike from yard to yard until I made it as far as the bridge that connected the island to the mainland. I broke into a run. I hopped on the bike mid-stride and pedaled hell for leather, my feelings of elation taking to the wind and flying like a great white egret circling high above the bayou. I was healthy. I was free.


	8. Agreement

I made it to Titusville by sunset. I tried not to rely on the bike’s electric battery, deciding to let the solar panels on the back wheel do their thing. I wanted to charge the battery as much as possible for nightfall when my energy would be inevitably waning. 

I’d covered good ground and could thank the vampire blood and my adrenaline for that, but I needed to rest before pressing on. 

I wondered what Eric would think upon rising. Would he be motivated enough to come and find me? Maybe… But then again, traveling outside the compound where there was no reliable blood source would be a risk for him. Traveling post-apocalypse had to be a riskier venture for vampires than humans. I had the advantage.

I pedaled on the main highway, taking in the sights with the last of the daylight. The fading sun had turned the sky as pink as cotton candy, promising another pleasant day to come. Across the causeway was the Kennedy Space Center. I slowed as I passed the turn-off, a deep urge tugging within me to go and explore. I’d wanted to visit there since I was a little girl. I’m pretty sure every kid goes through a space-crazy phase, especially if they had an older brother like I had. 

I resisted and passed straight on by, turning off towards the city. I followed the signs as they pointed me towards to the shopping district and a Walmart Supercenter. I rode another handful of miles, finding it in the dark. My eyes had adjusted quickly, I was seeing so much more thanks to Eric’s blood. It had helped me in more way than one. I ignored the flutter of remorse for leaving the way I did and parked my bike around the side of the building. 

The doors had been hauled open, and I cast out my mind cautiously, relieved but unsurprised to feel no one. There was always no one - everywhere. I stepped into the cavernous store and pulled the glass sliding doors closed behind me. Some towns still had packs of ravenous dogs that wandered, so it was always better to err on the side of caution. If I was bit by a rabid dog it would be game over for Sookie Stackhouse, vampire blood or no. 

I found the store map and using my pen light, I managed to get myself to the hardware section without getting lost. I located a usable flashlight with better illumination and walked over to the grocery section, singing an old country tune loudly (and terribly) to myself, enjoying the sound of my voice echoing back at me across the store. 

My dinner consisted of peanut butter and jelly on whole grain crackers accompanied with a red solo cup filled with orange Gatorade. I sat in the book aisle, flashlight on my lap, cracker in hand, and flicking through a photo book of contemporary photo portraiture. I liked looking at faces. I didn’t see a whole lot of different ones these days. It was a bit like people watching but into the past. 

It was ironic really, my whole life I’d hated how I was bombarded against my will by the thoughts of everyone around me. I wanted nothing more than to surround myself in silence. And now that wish had come true - in a horrible Twilight Zone-esque way. I didn’t often linger on it, or on the feelings, but I missed the way things were. I missed the old world.

I finished eating and wandered towards the women’s wear section, the beam of light bobbing up and down with every spring in my step. I picked out some clothes that were better suited for long haul cycling: comfortable running shorts, decent sneakers, a loose fitting tank made from that absorbent exercise material, and finally, and perhaps most important of all, a well-fitting sports bra. 

I changed, pausing to shine the flashlight on the scar of my injury. It was pale and silvery under the light. I wondered if Eric would come after me. I wished I had some way of knowing. I just had to hope I would have enough time to get back to River Rock to regroup, pack and keep on moving. I didn’t want to leave my little town and the little community there, but I could always come back when enough time had passed so that the blood tie had faded. That was presuming he’d even be bothered enough to leave the comforts and luxuries of a powered mansion with dozens of humans to feed on. 

I folded away my old clothes into my pack and gave myself another minute to relax, drifting through the aisles near cosmetics choosing a new toothbrush, lipstick, and mascara. I wandered into the toy department, finding a little something that would fit in my bag. 

I checked the map and hit the road again, sticking to Route 1 which hugged the coast. It was windier, but shorter in distance than the 95. It was also more built up, which meant I could stop and have access to safe drinking sources and food thanks to the empty stores and abandoned homes. 

After just a few miles, my legs were aching. They were more than aching; they were on fire. I hadn’t exactly been training myself for a long-distance cycling jaunt before tonight. I turned the assist on high, the battery putting extra oomph and momentum into each push of the pedal. 

I missed my bed and clean sheets at River Rock, and would’ve given anything to be back home in that moment, tucked safely in bed, but there was still several hundred miles between me and home. I took a deep breath and took stock of my surrounding. With River Rock so far away, I ought to appreciate living in the moment. The breeze felt great. I felt strong and healthy. With every pedal, I was further away from danger and that bit closer to home. I just had to focus on the now and I could deal with the rest later. 

A thin crescent moon had risen by the time I reached Daytona Beach. The Milky Way was so bright it was as if God himself had used a brush to paint a giant stroke of brilliant stars across the sky. I pedaled slowly along the main strip, wondering how many hours there were until sunrise. My mind wanted to keep going but my body was crying out for sleep. I found a hotel and forced myself to stop. 

Sleep didn’t come easily once I found a clean bed. I wondered what Eric was doing right at that moment. 

* * *

The seaweed was already baking on Daytona Beach by the time I woke up the next day. The seaside hotel I'd slept in still had a large collection of fresh linen and towels, so I stole a towel and laid it out on a patch of firm sand at the beach, away from where the pungent seaweed had washed in. 

Boardwalk amusement rides towered over me to my right like tall, rusted relics. I could hear their old bones creak and settle in the breeze. They gave the scenic beach a creepy ambiance, but if I shook the feeling off it was almost like I was enjoying the tourist experience. 

I'd endured a fitful sleep. The second I'd drift off, my mind was filled with dreams of Eric and I'd wake either in a panic or hot and bothered. I tested the limits of my ability during those wakeful moments, sweeping city blocks around me for any sign of life… Undead or otherwise. When sunrise finally broke over the Atlantic, it was as welcome as dew on a desert flower. 

The waves crashed noisily, the white froth an attractive contrast against the bright blue. The vista was tempting. I’d never had the opportunity to enjoy a beach vacation growing up, we were too poor. Dirt poor, to be exact. Other than a class trip to New Orleans, I had never really ventured from my corner of the world. I couldn’t resist the temptation to swim now.

I stripped off completely and bathed quickly in the surf, jumping high as the waves crashed around me. I roughly washed my clothes and laid them out to dry, then allowed myself a minute to sunbathe nude. 

In my old life back in Bon Temps, I lived to sunbathe, but never would I have dreamed of doing it nude. I was a good southern girl and modesty was a virtue, after all. But it turns out when the world ends and everyone’s gone, I did not have a single compunction about living free and breezy. I was sure I wasn’t first to bathe nude on this beach. Though maybe I would be the last. 

After cooking myself to a nice even colored brown, I rode solidly until it was well past sunset, and my legs and glutes crying out for relief. I paused only to relieve myself and eat. I had made it only as far as Jacksonville, but I figured I’d been riding nearly seven hours, with only the occasional break in between. 

I entered a convenience store that had the front windows smashed out, and helped myself to a couple Clif bars and a bag of chips, thankful to find a few bottles of unopened water rolling around under an aisle. The plague struck so quickly, that there had been hardly any looting and certainly no time for rioting. Most people in the cities were advised to stay indoors to prevent the spread, and by the time it was bad enough to start burning the bodies en masse, the people that were left behind were forced to evacuate the cities or stay indoors in order to keep away from the smoke. Then almost all of those people died from the plague anyway, too. Almost completely pervasive, almost completely fatal. 

I settled on a graffiti covered bench by the river and took off my shoes and socks resting my tired feet against the cool concrete path. The river looked glassy, gentle ripples moving across the black surface. I was excited, tomorrow I would cross over into Georgia. It didn’t mean that much really, but it felt like the first big milestone of the journey home. If I continued making good time, I could be back in River Rock in four or five days. I couldn’t help the smile as I took the first bite into my bar. 

I was gulping down the last of my water when I heard it. 

A distant sound, carried by the gentle southerly along the river. I screwed the cap back onto the bottle, turning my ear to the wind, straining to listen. I felt the cold hand of inevitability squeeze my heart. It was the faint rumble of a car engine. 

How far away? 

I pulled on my shoes without bothering with the socks and began grabbing my things, stuffing them hastily into my pack. I unzipped the front pocket and retrieved the revolver. I double checked the safety was on and tucked it into the back of my shorts, making sure it was sitting snugly in my waistband. 

I figured the car was five miles away at most, given how sensitive my ears were post-healing. I grabbed my bike, making a running leap onto the bicycle seat and pedaled as fast as my legs could take me. If I was lucky, the car could be further away than I guessed, the night was deathly quiet with the wind traveling in just the right direction to carry sound. 

Either way, dawn was still too far away to outride a car and a vampire's blood tie together. The injustice of it all was enough to make me cry, sobs of desperation rising in between my labored breaths as I rode. My fate was inescapable… But there was always a choice. I could still make things difficult for him. And it was a him - because there could only be one person behind the wheel. 

I rode straight into Jacksonville’s CBD, aiming for the taller buildings. I rode three blocks through downtown before stopping beside a tall concrete and glass office building. It was maybe a dozen or so stories high with a small mezzanine floor above the foyer that once served as a restaurant or café. The mezzanine area jutted out over the pavement, it was an area for outdoor balcony dining that would have once been popular for the worker bees. 

I took stock of the building, looking for a way in. The balcony dining area would be my best bet. 

I fished around to the bottom of my pack and retrieved a length of thick nylon rope. I tied it securely to my waist and the other end to the bike. I couldn’t hear the car anymore, but I was enclosed between the city buildings now. I knew it was still coming. I moved quickly. 

I hoisted myself up the stone column next to the balcony, my feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth concrete, my nails scraping into the thin ledge between the stone slabs. Through sheer will and vampire-aided strength, I climbed high enough to throw my hand over to grasp hold of the bottom of the balcony ledge. There was enough slack in the rope, that the bike sat waiting on the pavement.

I shifted my weight and heaved myself across so I was hanging off the balcony with both hands. I swung my good leg up first and hauled myself to my feet, grasping onto the outside of the balcony railing. I straddled the framed glass railing, and brought the bike up with me, pulling it up one arm length of rope at a time. 

Once the bike and I were safely over, I picked the lock into the building; it was an older style mortise lock. I was an old hand at this sort by now, they were the normal sort you’d see in every eighties era office building and store. I was in after a couple minutes of fiddling around with the tools I had with me. I ran in through the restaurant, ditching the bike and rope behind the service counter. I located the fire escape stairwell for the building and took the pitch black stairs two at a time the whole way up with only my penlight to guide the way. I was more stumbling than running by the last floor. 

To my relief, the door to the roof was propped open with a brick, which I kicked away on my way through. The door slammed shut hard, locking behind me. I stood still, chest heaving, once I got out into the open air and listened. I could hear the car, it was much closer now. Somewhere over the river, closing in from the south. Maybe only a couple minutes away.

The roof had once been a smoking area for staff in the building. There were a couple of large terracotta pots filled with dead plant life, a long metal bench, and cigarette butts littered everywhere. I dragged the bench across the door and stacked the plant pots beside one another atop the bench. I sat down directly opposite the door, leaning against the concrete parapet and pointing my revolver towards the door. I was still breathing hard, coated in sweat and trembling from exertion. Whatever was going to happen, whether he snatch me or kill me, I wouldn’t let him do it without a fight. 

I felt so stupid, so foolish to just expect that I’d escape so easily. I hadn’t even considered he’d take the car. I should’ve found the damn thing before I left and just cut the brakes. I wiped my wet cheeks against my shoulder. I had felt so confident and cocky in my abilities that I let it butt my thinking. 

The car was close enough that I could follow the single occupant’s mental signature. A vampire void. No surprises there, really. Was he planning on killing me? Maybe; maybe not. I wish I had a coin to toss. But why travel all this way just to off me? Maybe he would capture me and turn me into his blood slave, punish me for my escape. Vampires were territorial, Jessup had told me. Just how mad could Eric be? 

On a scale of one to absolutely furious, I guessed he had to be past ten and somewhere in the hundreds. Why on earth had I egged him on with that stupid note and the blankets? It had seemed funny at the time. God, how dumb could I be? I wasn’t a teenager playing pranks on Jason again, I was prey toying with my predator. 

But it was a little more complex than that. Wasn’t it? He had done me a huge favor. He’d saved my life. And he hadn’t even told me why. 

The car stopped somewhere down below. I heard the echoing slam of the door and, to my horror, I tracked the silent void as it rose towards me from outside the building. I turned on my knees and peered over the ledge. Eric rose through the air before me like a ghostly, softly glowing angel of the night. His fangs were down, expression almost feral, tongue trailing across the tips of his fangs in anticipation. 

I leaped back in shock, gripping the gun hard before it slipped. “You can fly!” 

He floated down to land quietly in front of me. I scuffled back a few more feet and lifted the gun to aim it right at him.

“Sookie, Sookie, Sookie…” he admonished. “After all I’ve done for you? You’re not really going to shoot me are you?” He held out his hand as if I’d be dumb enough to just hand my weapon over to him.

“Not unless you plan on draining me.” 

“You’ve made me angry enough to consider it.” He took a step forward. His tone was utterly chilling. 

“And you’ve made me mad enough to shoot you.” 

“You won’t.” 

“…And you won’t drain me.” I was careful not to word it like a question, although it was, at least in my mind. Or maybe closer to a plea. 

Seconds passed. His expression turned thoughtful and his menacing stance transformed to a composed, though casual one. He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head to regard me.

“No, I don’t imagine I will.” 

He made a show of curling his top lip to snick his fangs back into place. It was as much of a reassurance as I was going to get. I lowered the gun and stood to my feet. His gaze flicked over my shoulder to the stairwell door and metal bench. 

“That was your plan on keeping me out?” His eyebrows rose with skepticism. 

“I thought I’d slow you down long enough to lay a few rounds of silver into you. I didn’t anticipate you’d fly.” I picked up my pack. Eric was in front of me, my wrist held firmly in his cool grasp. 

“I’ll be taking that.” He removed the gun from my hand, checked the safety and pocketed it. He rummaged through the contents of my pack and threw the wooden stake that was inside over the edge of the building, before thrusting the bag back into my arms. I heard the distant clunk as it landed on the pavement below. 

“That’s rude you know.” I zipped up the bag angrily and shouldered it. 

“No. That’s self-preservation. It’s how I’ve survived so long in this world. What’s rude is you escaping before I’d finished with you. Before I had time to offer you a proposition.” I couldn’t tell if he was aggravated or flirting.

“A proposition? Is that some sort of disgusting euphemism? And I would argue that escaping was self-preservation too.” 

“It’s a little too late for that, telepath. You are mine now. I will always be able to find you.” 

Before I could protest, he grabbed me by the waist and launched into the air, flying us up and over the edge of the roof and then down toward the pavement below. I shrieked and clung to him, my nails digging into his arms. 

His chest vibrated with laughter and I balled my fist hitting him in the chest. 

“Not funny!” I cried when he released me safely onto the pavement. “And I am most definitely, one hundred percent not yours.” 

“You’ve had my blood. You are mine.” He said it like it was a fact as plain as day. These shoes are mine. This toothbrush is mine. Sookie is mine. 

He pulled me by the arm along to where he had parked my car. 

“Whoa, just hold up a second. I’m not just going with you back to vampire Club Med,” I protested. “And you can’t just go all caveman and commandeer my life. I’ll just break out again if you try.”

“So it seems. And I’m not planning on taking you back to south Florida – or anywhere for that matter.” He opened the car door and pulled my pack from my shoulders, throwing it into the back seat. He pushed me by the shoulder down into the driver seat like I was a police suspect.

“What are you talking about?” I held the door open with my foot, preventing him from closing it. 

“I’m not taking you anywhere. I brought your car so you can take me somewhere.”

“What do you mean? Where?” 

He blurred around the car to settle into the passenger seat beside me. He threw the keys into my lap. I picked them up and looked at him in suspicion. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

“There are no immediate plans.” His eyes danced with amusement as I glanced back and forth between him and the keys, my suspicion morphing into confusion. 

“Well… Then just wait here a minute,” I said.

I handed the keys to him and got out of the car, jogging back across to the mezzanine balcony. There was no way I’d be ditching my bike. I climbed back up onto the balcony and retrieved the bike, lowering it slowly with the rope back down to the pavement. I lowered myself carefully back down off the balcony too and walked the bike back over to the car. 

He couldn’t be expecting me to take him back to South Carolina with me… Could he? There was no way that was happening. Could I ditch him somewhere? I had the car now. Escape would be a lot easier in daylight. 

Eric stayed in the passenger seat while I struggled to fit the bike back onto the rack. This ticked me off, especially when I noticed that aside from the remaining fuel, all the goods I’d brought with me to trade were missing from the trunk of the car. Goddammit, I was ready to be free of this mess!

“I did wonder how you made it this far,” he said, nodding back towards the bike once I got back in my seat and slammed the door.

“I wasn’t going to visit a mega vamp nest without having an escape plan.” I reached across his lap and retrieved a map from the glove box. I turned on the internal dome light and opened up the map across my lap. “Well, if you’re not dragging me back to Jupiter Island… Then where are you taking me?” 

“You’re taking me and you’re not going to need this,” he said, gesturing to the map.

“What on earth is that meant to mean?” I threw up my hands in defeat. “What’s your end game here? You want me to lead you to my community so you can help yourself to a fresh human smorgasbord? Or is this just a classic all American telepath-vampire road trip? Enlighten me here.” 

He took the large map of Florida from my hands and calmly folded it neatly back into its original shape. I felt the steam start pour from my ears. 

“I swear to all that is good and holy, if you don’t-“

“Travelling in the new world is unsafe, Sookie.” Eric adjusted his seat, rolling it back as far it would go so his legs were no longer cramped. He shifted a little to face me. “For vampires, in particular. We must take human companions with us for sustenance and often by foot. This inevitably slows us down. There are other considerations too... We must help provide for them. Food, fresh water, and medical care. If they don’t survive the journey then we have to hurry to find the nearest community of humans or else we may become too weakened by lack of sustenance to travel further. If we are stuck too long without blood we would eventually desiccate.” 

Desiccate? I shuddered. It sounded gruesome. 

“Would that kill you?” I asked.

“No, but a vampire would be stuck in a kind of stasis until someone fed him or her blood. Human communities are few and far between, so I’m sure you can appreciate the considerable risk in traveling. It’s why vampires have gathered in their own communities with humans in order to ensure their own survival.” 

“That’s why y’all aren’t roaming around anymore.” 

“It’s a little more political than that, but yes,” he nodded. A lock of blond hair slipped out from behind his ear. His hair was glossier than mine, but almost the exact same shade. 

“Alright then. So you want me to take you … where?” 

“I felt the call of my maker some months ago. It seems he’s in America after many hundreds of years of residing in Europe. I’ve been waiting to travel to him. I sense he is moving slowly somewhere to the north of here, he had paused for some days but he’s moving again. He’s perhaps only a state or two away now. You will take me there. That was my intention from the beginning.”

I nodded slowly, that made more sense than what Pam had told me last night. I nearly laughed, now the idea of him trying to woo me like that seemed so completely absurd.

“So you can track him like you did me?” I asked.

“Yes. Maker and child share an exceptionally strong blood tie.”

“Because he murdered you and gave you his blood to reanimate you.” 

“That’s one way of viewing it, yes,” he said, lips thinning in displeasure. I shrugged, I was just calling it like I saw it. “I have no interest in arguing semantics with you right now. We will travel together in your car. You will provide me with blood, I will ensure your survival. When I’m close enough to travel alone safely you may return to your home.” 

“So we’re heading north – to some place you don’t even know – because your maker… ‘called’ you?” I lifted my fingers to make invisible quotation marks. I chose to ignore the part about drinking my blood, for the time being.

“Yes. It’s the method in which a maker summons their child back to their side.” He looked away, focusing on an unknown point through the windshield, his expression darkening. “His call isn’t urgent, but I must heed it.” 

I sighed and turned to stare out the windshield too. 

“How much blood?” I asked quietly.

“I’m old, even by vampire standards -” he began and I snorted with laughter, cutting him off. Eric shot me a frightening look. I shut up quickly, gesturing for him to go on. 

“It means I don’t need to feed so frequently,” he said. “Perhaps a mouthful or two every few days, or once a week with a slightly longer feed. Though it’s not wise to let myself go hungry when blood supply is limited.”

I screwed up my nose. “Gross.” 

“Oh no, quite the opposite…” He trailed a finger along my clavicle and I swatted his hand away. A minute passed while I thought it all over.

“Okay. So I do this and we’re done. I’m not yours. I won’t owe you anything. You can’t follow me. You can’t come and find me. You can’t hassle me ever again. Deal?”

“Deal.” He smiled in the most genuine way I’d see from him yet. I couldn’t help but smile in return. 

Oh boy, this guy - this vampire - was a pendulum that swung from one extreme to another. I really couldn’t get a grasp of him. Or perhaps this was just how everyone felt about everyone when they didn’t get a front row seat into a person’s thoughts.

I held out my hand to shake on it. He looked at it strangely, like he didn’t know what he was meant to do with it. A moment passed before he reached out and met me halfway with a firm shake.


	9. Road Trip

I lasted just shy of five miles behind the wheel before Eric complained I was driving too slowly and made me switch places with him into the passenger seat. I’d been cycling my butt off all day (and boy, was my butt sore) so I couldn’t find it in me to complain. 

“Be gentle,” I pleaded as he floored the gas pedal. I squeezed the seat tightly, bracing myself. “The roads aren’t like what they used to be… And there aren’t any other cars to replace this one!” 

“I know what I’m doing,” he declared, though he did ease off the gas. To my relief, he did seem to navigate smoothly around potholes, obstacles, and the shrubbery growing through the roads. Vampire reflexes. 

We drove on in silence. I fiddled with the CD player until I got a song to play. Owen, River Rock’s resident mechanic, had left a Dave Mathews Band album in the player. Not my style, but it would do. I stared out the window, watching the pitch black roll by, stewing over the last week of my life. I felt a confusing cocktail of gratitude and anger and fear. But mostly anger.

Eric turned to stare at me, brow raised expectantly. 

“What?” I snapped. 

“You tell me.” 

Urgh, stupid blood tie.

“You had no right to chain me up,” I huffed, crossing my arms.

“I had no right?” He looked amused. “Have you looked around you lately? There are no rights anymore. You’re unpredictable. I knew you were a flight risk, so I did what was necessary.” 

Necessary. There was that word again.

“Oh, get over yourself,” I said. “Just because there’s no one around to enforce the declaration of human rights, doesn’t mean you abandon all sense of moral responsibility and stop treating people decently.”

He laughed. The asshole laughed!

“If you think I held either of those qualities prior to the great death then you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“So you just went around chaining up girls for the day? Actually - I really don’t want to know the answer to that.” 

He smirked and wound the window down a crack to let in some air. 

“I can assure you I have no further intentions of chaining you for the day,” he said. 

“Only because I can escape.” 

He shrugged. “Does it matter the reason why?” 

“It’s probably because your little blonde lackey isn’t here to do it for you, seein’ as you were too cowardly to do it yourself last time.” 

He sure didn’t like that. His hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel, though his calm expression gave nothing away. I smirked, pleased I got to him. His poker face rivaled mine, but I had a lifetime of unintentionally listening to everyone’s dirty laundry and seeing how people behaved while spouting bald-faced lies. I was good at recognizing tells in others and had been working my whole life to iron out my own. 

“You, Sookie,” Eric gritted out, “are either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to goad a hungry vampire within enclosed quarters, especially when you are the only human for hundreds of miles.” 

That burst my good humor quicker than a pin to a balloon. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again on second thoughts.

“Contrary to any narrative Pamela may have tried to spin,” he said rigidly, “I restrained you only so I could contain you; I could tell you were planning to escape. If you’d given me the chance, I would have asked you the following night to accompany me.” 

“Are you freaking kidding me? You were _going to_ ask me? You could have just asked straight out instead of shackling me to the bed like a kidnap victim!” 

“So if I’d come and woken you that night, asked you to travel alongside me, you wouldn’t have tried to escape?” 

“No, I wouldn’t have,” I shot out stubbornly, knowing good and well it was a lie. There’s no way I would have agreed to hang around for a vampire road trip. Not when I could escape by myself, even on bike. I still would have taken my chances. 

Eric gave me a disbelieving look.

“Either way,” I said, “your behavior was still psychotic. And you need to apologize to me.”

“You want me to apologize for lacking a sense of moral responsibility and the ability to treat humans decently?”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Yes, please.” 

“You’re disgusting.” I growled in frustration and crossed my arms. 

I decided to give up completely. He clearly wasn’t going to get it. After minutes of uncomfortable silence, I reached into the back seat and retrieved the remains of my depressing dinner from the front pocket of my backpack. I was already sorely missing fresh food.

“Any rough idea of where we’re heading?” I asked between bites of my Clif bar. 

“North,” he answered in a clipped fashion. He was mad. Or maybe hungry. Probably both.

“You’ve said that already… You mean like out Atlanta way?” 

“I believe further.”

“How much further?”

“I can’t say.” He didn’t take his eyes from the road. 

“Can’t say or won’t?”

He didn’t respond. 

“You’re a real conversationalist. Do I get to look forward to more of these kinds of captivating conversations over our next few nights together?” 

“If you’re unhappy with my conversational skills, I possess many other pleasurable skills I’m more than happy to share with you.” Just like that, the Eric pendulum swung from pissed off vampire to arrogant flirt.

“Oof. Whatever it is you’re skilled in, it’s definitely not pick-up lines.” 

“Haven’t had any issues with my technique for the last millennia,” he said, without a shred of humility.

His words made me sit up. 

“Millennia? As in you’re more than a thousand years old? Get out.” 

“Give or take a handful, a thousand years is about right.” 

The knowledge blew me clear away. A whole thousand years of experiences and faces and stories and occurrences and civilizations. My eyes were as wide as saucers.

“That is unreal.” I bit my lip, barely containing the barrel load of questions that were forming. 

“Go ahead,” he said with a smirk. 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“Scandinavia.” 

“Well, this makes more sense,” I said, pointing to his tall frame and straw colored hair. 

“You mean my good looks?” he asked innocently. I rolled my eyes at him.

“How did you live back then? Did you have a job?” 

“I was born and raised in a small village on the coast. We subsisted well on the land, but we went to sea, went raiding.” 

“Raiding? As in… As in you were a Viking?” 

“Yes.”

“Whoa. You’re an actual Viking. That is… awesome. So, how old were you when you were turned?”

“Early thirties, by my best guess.”

“How much of the world have you seen?”

“Nearly all of it.” 

I whistled low. And here I was excited about spending the morning at the beach. 

“How does the last two years measure up against your lifetime of experience?” I asked.

“Completely unparalleled,” he said immediately, before taking on a more sullen tone. “I miss my smart phone. And the internet.” 

I laughed a little. That was not what I was expecting.

“Don’t get me started on things I miss from the old world. We’ll be here for days.” 

“I don’t mind. I’m interested to hear,” he said. His face had changed, the hardness was gone from around his eyes and the corners of his lips. He looked more open and relaxed. I guess we were on friendly terms again. When he looked like this, it was easy to forget what an arrogant ass he could be, and hard to not to get stuck on how unbearably good-looking he was. 

“Okay, where to start?” I picked at the stitching on my shorts to avoid staring at him. “The variety of fresh fruit. My Gran’s cooking. Sitting down with a basket of Lafayette’s fried pickles and an ice cold beer after a busy split shift. Ice-cream. I can’t describe how much I miss ice-cream.” 

“Is everything you miss food related?” he chuckled. I let out a surprised laugh. I hadn’t even realized I’d only listed food items. 

“Aside from food and all the mod-cons? I miss people. I miss seeing faces. Being around everyone at the bar. I miss my family and friends. I miss Louisiana. Leaving there felt a little like losing a limb. What about you? What do you miss?”

“I don’t form attachments.”

“Except for smart phones and the world wide web," I pointed out. 

“There are very few things that excite or hold my interest after living so long. Boredom is like a terminal illness, particularly since settling in Florida.” He paused as he considered this thought. “I guess I miss not being so bored.” 

“I would’ve thought you had it made in Florida. Constant electricity. Running water. Blood in the form of many willing shapes and sizes.” 

“I’ve been accustomed to existing without those things for far longer than I’ve existed with them. There’s much more to life than that.” 

I nodded. I could wholeheartedly agree with that, at least with the electricity and running water part. But I’d bet my right leg our notions of what constituted ‘more to life’ differed wildly. I told him as much which got a satisfying laugh in response.

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” he winked. 

* * *

We stopped for the day at a roadside motel on the outskirts of Macon, Georgia. Once I was in my room, Eric blurred off into gradually lightening sky with a wink and a promise to see me the following night at dusk. I assumed he’d found some suitable light-tight space, but it must have been far away somewhere because I couldn’t sense his presence anywhere nearby. My guess was that he was protecting himself against me. He’d taken the car keys too.

I half-expected Eric to want to drink my blood before retiring for the day, Lord knows I endured enough innuendo across the span of the evening, but I was relieved when he made no mention of it. 

I slept until late morning and left my stale and dusty room with my empty pack on my shoulders. I took the bike and rode at a leisurely pace through town. The outer suburbs were pretty; very green and leafy. 

I found a strip mall and picked out some new clothes, walking from one boutique to another. A variety of different underwear and another bra, a pair of denim shorts, black jeans, a few blouses, a warm button up sweater in black, a pretty pale yellow sun dress and finally some strappy flat sandals and a pair of white vans. 

I tried to shirk the feelings of discomfort caused by ‘shopping’ and focused on just enjoying my surroundings. It was a tricky task. I was always a modest woman in nature, but especially in means. Money was so tight, I never had the luxury of shopping sprees so it felt wrong raiding stores, even if currency and retail workers were a thing of the past. Gran had such a strong sense of moral fiber that it rubbed off on me too. Stackhouses earned their way in life. Picking free clothing off racks in empty stores somehow went against that. It was silly, really. But there was something deeply satisfying about working hard for your money and taking the time to choose an outfit knowing you’d truly earnt it. 

I had an awkward sponge bath with bottled water back in the motel, getting dressed afterward into the black jeans and a cream colored button-up blouse. I would try and see if we could find a river or creek somewhere close by tonight so I could wash my hair properly. 

I woke after dusk with a cool and solid vampire spooning me from behind. I’d drifted off on my bed in the late afternoon checking a tourist map for nearby rivers and roads out of the town. His nose was buried in the crook of my neck, his arms wrapped around me. 

“Do you have any idea how incredible you smell, lover?” he said huskily, his nose examining the underside of my earlobe. 

“Don’t call me that.” I shifted out of his embrace and sat up quickly, clearing my throat and flattening my hair. “I’m not your lover.”

“But you will be.” He propped his head up on his hand with a smug expression. Two large wax candles burned on the nightstand behind him. 

“I sincerely doubt that.” I wondered how long he had been snuggling me before I woke. 

“You had an enjoyable day today?” he asked, sailing right past my declaration.

“Yes, thanks. It’s a pretty city; lots of old buildings. I explored it for a few hours and found some food and clothing.” 

He held my gaze silently, the emotion in his eyes impenetrable. What was he thinking? The constant not-knowing was beginning to drive me crazy… How stupid. All I’d ever wanted was to meet someone whose mind I wasn’t privy to. Seconds passed and I shifted uneasily, I turned my attention to my cracked nails. They were nearly healed over and it had only been twenty-four hours since I’d chipped them.

“Will you feed me?” 

I stilled. 

“Yes,” I said, refusing to look across at him. That’s what we agreed to, after all. 

But the bed, the candlelight, the cuddling; it was intimate. I was being flung far outside the depths of my comfort zone. Would it hurt? Would he control himself once he tasted my part-fae blood? Would he expect more? Not more blood, but more … togetherness?

I was only willing to give him my blood, nothing else. He was an attractive man and he had taken the leading role of some pretty steamy dream time romps, but he was a vampire. I didn’t trust him. Less than 24 hours ago I was pointing my gun at him and he was telling me he’d been considering killing me. 

I felt him move to sit up beside me. He lifted my chin, stroking his thumb along my jaw line. 

“Just a couple mouthfuls and I’ll be sated. Nothing more… Unless you want it.” He waggled his brows at the end and grinned, breaking the tension. 

I let out a breathy laugh, somehow his over the top flirting put me more at ease than anything else. I could deal with that sort of behavior. I had more than enough practice dealing with it as a barmaid.

“Alright then, I guess we should get this over with, then. Moonlight’s a burning.” 

He seated himself behind me, scooting me back between his legs and close to him. I swept my hair off my shoulder, revealing my neck. 

“I didn’t get to bathe properly today, sorry.” 

“You smell delicious, Sookie,” he husked, pressing a kiss to my neck. “Like salt water and sunshine.” My swim at Daytona Beach the morning before felt like a lifetime ago.

I barely felt the pinch of his fangs entering my neck and he groaned deeply with his first pull of blood. One of his broad palms wound itself around my waist, the other gently moving up across my front, stroking my neck and along my collar bones. His arousal pressed hard behind me. His second pull of blood drew a wave of pleasure from me also. I made an involuntary noise, a sort of whimper, and I quickly found lost myself in the sensation. I leaned back into his arms, resting fully against him as he sucked slowly. His hand fisted my blouse and he eventually pulled away, his tongue lapping at the punctures. 

True to his word, he only drank two mouthfuls, though he took his sweet time before swallowing each of them. He rested his forehead against my shoulder when he finished.

“Good, huh?”

“Sookie, you are… exquisite.” 

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before,” I said with a shaky laugh.

“I want to be with you,” he said, holding me tight against him. “To fuck you and bite you, and rub myself all over you.” His words were sinful, igniting parts of me without warning.

“I think that’s just the blood talking.” I moved away from him and got off the bed.

“You won’t always be so resistant.” He radiated confidence laying back against the headboard, arms folded behind his head. He was shameless, his arousal straining through his jeans. 

“Don’t count on it,” I said. But I was afraid he might be right. 

* * *

We used up the last of the vegetable oil I’d brought with me from River Rock to refuel the car. The car was an interesting engine remodel, one of two cars that Owen had done himself. The car started using a solar-powered electric battery and after you’d driven a few miles, and once the oil had heated sufficiently, you switched it over to the vegetable oil fuel source. Eric took the spot behind the wheel again, steering us north-east, rather than the due north from yesterday. 

“He’s moving,” Eric said, explaining our change of direction.

“Can he sense you coming closer? Maybe he wants to meet you halfway?” 

Eric shook his head, his blonde hair swinging loosely. “No, he is moving away from where we were headed yesterday, it feels to the east. I’m expected to meet him wherever it is he chooses to journey.” 

“That seems rude. If he can feel you moving closer he should at least stop and wait - or meet you halfway.” 

“He is my master. This is his way.” His voice had a hard edge to it. I looked at him with a furrowed brow and decided it was probably wise not to ask anything else about his vamp-daddy. There were clearly issues there.

We chatted aimlessly as we drove. I told him a little of my life, losing my parents at a young age, growing up with Jason and Gran, my experiences living in a small town with my disability (though Eric argued hotly with me regarding this particular turn of phrase). 

He told me about Fangtasia and what is was like to live through the remarkable changes the great revelation had brought about. He told me how he used to physically kick fangbangers off his legs at the bar. They would be so desperate to be bitten and so taken by their vampire worship they would try to physically claw their way up him. Surely he was exaggerating. 

Our easy flowing banter stopped abruptly as we approached the city limits of Athen, north-east of Georgia. We’d been on the road for nearly three hours, Eric had been driving slower tonight compared to the previous night.

“Pull over, Eric,” I said quietly. 

“What is it?” He pulled over, shooting me a curious look. I closed my eyes, concentrating hard. 

“Two dozen-ish folks, maybe half a mile or so ahead, slightly to the east.” I was surprised I could feel them this far away. I put it down to the vampire blood as well as having my shields all the way down. Ofn the whole, it was easier to sense people these days, since humans were so few and far between.

“And that’s a problem?” 

“Yes,” I said, opening my eyes. “We have to drive around Athens and avoid them.”

A crease formed between his brows. 

“I was shot at a couple times driving from… where I reside down to Florida,” I explained. “People are desperate enough to kill us for cars.” 

Eric scoffed, “I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” I was half expecting him to beat his chest with his fists.

“Regardless,” I continued. “We can’t afford to get the car damaged by desperate survivors.” 

We gave Athens a wide berth, driving around it from the west. During my daytime wander through Macon, I’d acquired a thick book of maps, which I read under the yellow glow of the dome light, using it to guide Eric around the city. We continued north past Athens incident free and stopped in a small town, breaking into a store and raiding it of its entire stock of vegetable oil. Eric topped up the tank and I found a handout on a spinning stand by the counter for local tourist activities. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah,” I said, jogging back to the car, handout in one hand, my flashlight and bag of items in the other. 

“I want to go here,” I said, showing him the relevant section on the page. “It’s a local swimming hole. It looks like we can drive the car right to it and point the headlights onto the river.” 

“You want to go skinny dipping?” He draped an arm around my shoulder and pulled at the neck of my blouse, pretending to look down it. I elbowed him away.

“Don’t be a creep. I just want to wash my hair and clean up properly.” I opened my bag showing him the shampoo, soap and hair brush I’d chosen from the store. 

I was right about the river. Eric parked the car at a right angle across the road and between the trees so the headlights illuminated the river bed. The river had large flat rocks where the water bubbled over at ankle depth, with a larger basin to the side that you could dive into and swim properly. I shucked off my shoes and socks, grabbing my bag of things and the towels I’d brought with me from the motel. 

I made Eric turn around so I could undress and change into my sports bra and cycling shorts, figuring they’d dry quicker than anything else I had with me. I had to hand it to Eric, he didn’t even try to sneak a glance. Unlike Pam.

Crossing over the flat rocks, the water chilled my feet but felt refreshing. I left my things on a large boulder and jumped straight into the river basin. It was going to be cold if I got in slowly or fast, no use overthinking it. I cried out once I surfaced, the cold shocking my bones. 

“Holy crap, that is cold!” 

I heard Eric's chuckle though I couldn’t see him anymore. I began paddling over to the edge to grab the shampoo bottle. 

“Heads up!” Eric yelled. 

I looked up in time to see his enormous and very naked frame suspended a dozen feet above the basin before he released whatever magic it was that allowed him to hover in the air. He landed into the water beside me with a huge splash. 

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” I laughed, splashing him back with my hand when he came to the surface.

“I don’t need to think it, it is fact.” 

He swam across to me, a predatory glint in his eye. I squealed and splashed him again before swimming away as fast as I could. I knew that look, it was the look Jason would get when we would swim in the pond at home as kids, right before he’d grab me by the leg and pull me under. 

The cold forgotten, we took turns dunking and splashing each other. I got him a good one once, tugging him under by the ankle and somehow taking him by surprise. When I breached the surface and tried to get away he lifted me and launched me over his shoulder back into the water. Our laughter filled up the emptiness of the night. 

Out of breath, I swum to the rocks and perched on the edge of the basin as I shampooed my hair. Eric disappeared under the water and came up next to me, treading water. He moved to get out and sit next to me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said, holding up my palm. “I don’t need to see you in birthday suit. Highly inappropriate, by the way.” 

“Agree to disagree.” Eric shrugged with a smirk and sat up anyway. He squirted shampoo into his hand and massaged it into his hair. “Naked is the best way to bathe. Or swim. Or exist, really.” 

I rolled my eyes in response. 

l

“Look, you can barely see the scar anymore.” I showed him my thigh. He examined it closely, feeling it with his fingers. I slipped back under the water to rinse out the remains of the shampoo. 

“It won’t disappear completely,” he said, ducking under to rinse his hair too. “But it’s healed nicely. You’re lucky. Maybe another day and it would’ve been too late.” 

He grabbed the conditioner and motioned for me to turn around. I obliged and we fell silent as he massaged conditioner into the ends of my hair. That same uncomfortable intimacy grew again. He twisted my long hair in on itself and piled it on top of my head. I held onto the rocks with one hand, treading water silently, unsure what do to or say. I was alive thanks to him. Now he was close behind me, naked as the day he was born. 

“Do you want to know why I thought you were a spy when you first arrived at the mansion in Jupiter Island?” he asked, lifting a few loose tendrils of hair off my neck and onto my head.

“Okay.” The question came from left field, taking me by surprise.

Eric soaped up his hands and began massaging my shoulders. My first reaction was to swim away, but I remained still for reasons unknown. 

“Since the plague outbreak, there's been considerable conflict between vampires from old clans,” he said. “Clans were how we organized vampire territories across the states before the great death. Since being dissolved, there have been calls for territory claiming to begin again, though the plan was for America to remain provisionally ungoverned until human population increased. Some vampires had been sending plants to infiltrate vampire strongholds. To weed out information, discover secrets, even assassinate former monarchs. It was my first thought when you arrived at the mansion and I recognize your scent - and then realized I was unable to glamour you."

My stomach flipped. I swam out of his reach and faced him. 

“What do you mean? You recognized my scent?”

“Yes, I recognized it.”

“Explain.” I grasped onto the rock beside me, the craggy edge digging into my palm. 

“In Louisiana, I visited Bon Temps to investigate Bill Compton’s disappearance twice. The first time, I stopped by his home and then Merlotte’s, where I scented the evidence of Compton’s death in the car park. The second time was shortly before Pam and I left Louisiana. I went back to Bill’s home. I was curious to see if he had left anything of interest. There was talk of some big project he’d been working on. 

“I discovered the house ransacked. I first caught your scent there. Then I crossed the cemetery and found what I assume to be your family home. Bill’s scent was there also, but it was old. You’d been there recently but the house was packed up; windows boarded over. I maybe missed you by a few days.”

“I was at Sam Merlotte's. I nursed him as he was dying.” It was also me who ransacked Bill’s. I didn’t see any rumored project, but I found the file he was keeping on me. I burned it in his fireplace. I wouldn’t chance leaving Bon Temps only for another vampire to find it and then try to find me. It never occurred to me that a vampire might trace me by my smell alone. 

“Your scent was muddied by the infection when I met you, I only registered it as familiar. I realized how I knew it when you told us where you were from.”

“It’s how you worked out the connection between Bill and I.”

“I thought you were working in league with others.” 

“I wasn’t.”

“That became apparent pretty quickly,” he said, raising a smarmy eyebrow at me.

“Oh, hush up,” I said, flicking water his way. 

I took the bar of soap from him and quickly washed myself. It was hard to believe our paths came so close to crossing only to find each other nearly two years and the end of civilization later. Eric watched me carefully as I rinsed off. It wasn’t a leer. It was like he was deciding whether or not to say something. 

“What else?” I asked when the anticipation became too much.

“I smelled others at your home. Not just humans and Bill.” 

I froze, inadvertently squeezing the soap. It slipped through my hands and sunk out of reach into the black water. He nodded as if that confirmed something. 

“Fairies,” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I rinsed out the conditioner from my hair as quickly as I could and climbed out of the river.

“Sookie…” 

I wrapped myself in the towel, and walked over to my clothes, dressing under my towel. He got out too and (thankfully) wrapped the other towel around his waist. His body was too distracting. 

“Your heart it racing,” he murmured, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“You’re part-fae.” I wasn’t sure if he was simply stating it, or if it was what he wanted me to tell him. 

I finished dressing without reply, every movement felt jerky. I sunk down onto the large boulder when I was done, feeling resigned. Was there any use hiding it? Everything he thought he knew about me was probably the truth, anyway.

“Yes, I’m part-fae.” I sighed and began rubbing my towel through my wet hair. 

“Your natural scent and taste is undoubtedly different and extremely delicious, but I don’t know if I would’ve made the link to your heritage without scenting the full-blood fae on your property.” 

He watched as I took the brush to my hair. I stared past him, to where the car headlights were illuminating the boulders and dense forest on the other side of the river.

Eric turned his back to me and dropped the towel. He made a show of drying himself off and squeezing his naked butt into his jeans. I tried not to look, but he caught me out and gave me a wink over his shoulder. If I wasn’t so upset by the subject matter, I would’ve appreciated his form. He was as close to a perfect male specimen as you got. He pulled his navy v-neck tee over his head and sat down beside me. 

“There’s a portal hidden in the forest at the back of the farmhouse,” I said eventually. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

“Why didn’t you return to Fairy when they closed the portals?” 

“Because I refused.” I tugged the brush roughly through my hair. 

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.”

“How do you know about the portals closing?” 

“Supes like to gossip,” he shrugged, leaning back to rest on his hands. “I heard all the fae, including human hybrids, escaped through the last of the open portals to prevent being hunted by vampires. Fairies were at great risk, but were able to survive the plague.”

“Funny that,” I said with a hollow laugh. I handed him the brush and he began on his own hair. I could almost feel his curiosity burning through him. 

“I’m one-eighth fairy,” I said. “My grandfather was half-fae and had an affair with my gran. The man I was raised to believe was my real grandfather was, in fact, sterile. She had two children as a result of the affair. One was my father.” I put on my socks and shoes back on, happy I didn’t have to meet his penetrating stare. 

“My great-grandfather came through the portal when everyone started dying,” I continued. “Tried to convince me to come with him. I nearly shot him right there on my porch. I had no clue who he was. I’d buried Gran a few weeks earlier and I’d delivered Jason’s body to the crematorium the day before. And here he was telling me these crazy stories, dirtying Gran’s good name, and turning my world on its head like it wasn’t crazy enough already… He expected me to drop everything and just happily leave the dimension with him? Up until that moment, I thought I knew all there was to this world. 

“I have the spark, he said. It was why I survived and my family didn’t. It made me worthy enough to live in Fairy. Turns out I won’t even go to heaven to be with my family and friends when I die – I’ll end up in the Summerlands where all the fae go. What a joke.” My voice cracked and I swiped the burning tears from where they had gathered in my eyes.

“And he allowed you to stay behind?” 

“I told him I had unfinished business and he said he’d be back to check on me in a month or so. Time moves differently between our two worlds, apparently. He found me in Wisconsin about a month after I left Bon Temps. I’d been driving across the states, looking to settle somewhere. He stayed for a week, tried to get to know me. He has a soft spot for me, or so he said. He respected my reasons to stay.” 

“Your reasons?”

“Yes, my reasons,” I echoed. I stood up and brushed off my pants, ready to be done with the conversation. I’d only shared the tip of the messed-up iceberg when it came to my fairy brethren.

“Would your reasons have anything to do with the child’s toy I saw in your backpack?”

“That’s nothing to do with you,” I snarled. I snatched up my things and stalked back to the car, angry and taken aback.

Goddamned, tricky vampire. He made out like he was confessing that he knew me before he knew me, but really he’d just been fishing for information. I cursed my own stupidity. I'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed a line from the novels, I'm sure you can work out which line ;-) Catch you all tomorrow with a new chapter.


	10. Marooned

We drove hundreds of miles in silence. Well, Eric tried to strike up a conversation a few times but I was locked down. As far as I was concerned, the conversation portion of our road trip was over. I wanted to drop him off and get the hell out of dodge and back to South Carolina. I just hoped he would stand by his word and leave me alone once we parted ways. 

It wasn’t that I was surprised Eric was needling me for information - he was acting exactly how I expected a vampire to act. The surprise was that I was hurt by it. And that pissed me off. I didn’t want to have those feelings and I definitely did not want to examine them either. 

Eventually, he gave up trying to talk and put on the Dave Mathews CD again. Cheese and rice, I was so sick of that album. If I never heard Dave Mathews Band again for as long as I lived, it would still be too soon. I rubbed my eyes, closing them and focused my harried thoughts on happier times. 

Sunbathing on the lawn at the farmhouse with the sound of Gran humming drifting through the kitchen window. 

Driving the open road in Sam’s truck, with the entire United States ahead of me. 

Meeting Donna and Jessup, and the nights we spent around the bonfire at River Rock with the new townsfolk, grilling food and listening to Otis and Shauna play the banjo and guitar, Donna’s sweet singing voice floating on the breeze. 

Those few dates I enjoyed with Owen. How excited and sweet he was to me when I shared my bed with him for the first time. 

Busting my butt for two solid days with the push mower in the town’s soccer field and then watching the kids in the community finally enjoy a game. 

The fresh fruit I ate in the mansion at Florida; the sweet orange, juicy and perfectly ripened, how it burst in my mouth full of flavor. I sighed. What I’d give to go back and relive that particular moment… 

“What are you thinking about?” Eric rasped. I opened an eye and spied him from my periphery. He shifted in the driver’s seat and adjusted his pants. 

“Oranges. I was thinking about fresh oranges.” I tried to keep the laughter in, but it was so absurdly funny that it burst out unbidden. My orange craving was apparently doing a number on him thanks to our blood tie. He made a gruff, unimpressed sound in response. I closed my eyes again with a giggle, my smile pasted on my lips.

Some time later, Eric gently shook my shoulder, waking me up. 

“We’re stopping for the day here,” he said. The driver’s door was open and with the dome light on I could see him clearly. His hair had dried in loose locks around his face, his blue eyes startlingly bright. 

“Just because you can’t glamour me, doesn’t mean it’s right for you to manipulate information out of me,” I told him, lifting my chin. “It’s disrespectful. And frankly, my life is none of your damn business.” 

His mouth open and closed. He wasn’t expecting me to launch into him the moment I opened my eyes. I got out of the car and slammed the door. I put on my sweater, pulling my now dry hair back into a ponytail. 

“Where are we?” I asked. 

Eric got out of the car and walked around to face me. 

“It’s not my intention to manipulate you,” he said. 

“Oh, that’s BS and you know it.” 

“Why would I manipulate information from you?” he asked, lifting a hand in exasperation. “As per the terms of our agreement, after this trip, we will never see each other again.” 

“Who knows with you crafty vampires? I can probably trust your word as far as I can throw you. I’m a hot commodity, after all. Part-fae telepath, probably the only of my kind here on earth. Maybe you want me as a tasty gift for your vamp-daddy? Who knows!” I wasn’t sure I really believed that, but the barbed words flew easily from my lips.

“Don’t question my honor,” he snarled, the tips of his fangs showing. “I have every intention of keeping my end of the deal. Are you always this maddening, woman?” 

“Yes, in fact, I am! Especially when assholes try to manipulate private information out of me.”

Eric let out a growl of frustration and grabbed the flashlight from the trunk, slamming the trunk shut so hard I was surprised the rear windscreen didn’t crack.  


I grabbed my things and had to almost jog to keep pace with Eric as he stalked down the street. He’d parked beside a picturesque town center. Beautiful red brick and white-spired buildings all in a similar style surrounded the leafy square, where a regal looking fountain, now long dried, stood proudly in the center. Back in its day, this town would once have been postcard perfect. 

“We’re just inside the border of Tennessee,” he said when I opened my mouth to ask him our location again. I didn’t dare ask the town name. Well, good. Wasn't like I wanted to talk to him, anyways. 

Eric stood by watching as I broke into a small B&B, a street back from the center of town. It was a cheap pin tumbler lock, no deadbolt, so it took only seconds to get in with a bump key. The smell of death hit us as soon as the door swung open and Eric reached across me and promptly pulled it shut. There were bodies inside. 

I found a townhouse a few doors down that was empty. Eric left me without a word once I was safely inside. I walked through the heritage style home until I found a bed on the second story. I sunk down onto the bed, following his void as it disappeared around the corner back to the car. I heard the rumble of it starting and panic fluttered in my chest. I followed him with my mind, as he moved and parked the car outside where I was. 

I heard the door slam and his void took to the sky. He disappeared quicker than I could track him. I turned off the flashlight and laid down on the musty pillow. I could feel my weariness like a physical ache in my bones. Sleep was a long time coming. Dawn arrived hours later. 

* * *

I awoke at midday. At least according to the town clock, it was midday. It rung loud and clear twelve times, jerking me from my sleep. 

In my dream, I was back at Merlotte’s working a busy shift where Sam had left me in charge for the night. It was a full moon, so he was out running and the patrons were getting wild and raucous. I was panicking, trying to change an empty keg over and having no idea how to sort out the tangled beer lines and get the new keg hooked up. 

I sat up and scrubbed my face tiredly with my hands. Anxiety dreams.

I stared long and hard at my tired face in the mirror. Maybe I'd feel better about myself and everything else if I made an effort today. I cleaned my teeth, awkwardly shaved my underarms and legs over the sink, and washed my face with bottled water. I put on a single coat of mascara. The weather was warm, so I decided on the yellow sundress and white strappy sandals. 

I was ravenous. I realized I’d neglected to eat dinner the night before. I’d given Eric my blood too. That was just foolish. I needed to keep myself fed if he was drinking from me. I left the townhouse and walked until I found a grocery store. I grabbed a few items and was pleased to only walk a few shopfronts further down and find a camping and hunting store too. I set up a small camping gas cooker in the town square and cooked up a large serve of beans and rice. I used a thermos food container to store the leftovers for my dinner that night and leaned against a tall oak to eat my meal straight from the pan. 

I felt terribly homesick. I hoped everything and everyone back home was faring okay. Maybe Eric would be safe to leave me and could head on alone after tonight? Although the idea left me with a pang in my chest, one - again - I wasn’t keen to examine too closely. 

I was still mad at myself for revealing too much to him. But the way he responded when I accused him of being manipulative and dishonorable made me feel awful. I had upset him. The fact that I could even have that effect on him made me reevaluate my opinion. He had so far not gone against his word, he had been respectful as much as it seemed his charming and cocksure self could be, and he hadn’t forced me to do anything against my will. 

It went against everything Sam Merlotte and even Jessup, the ex-were guard and unofficial town leader of River Rock, had taught me about vampires.

But, as a more critical voice in my mind reminded me, Eric had claimed me as his and forced me to tell him what I was when I first arrived at Jupiter Island. He ignored the goods I’d brought to trade for being healed and instead used his blood to blackmail me into telling him who I was. And he’d chained me up like an animal! 

I sighed and scraped at the remains of my lunch off the bottom of the pan where it had caramelized. Didn’t he only do that because he could tell I was planning on escaping as soon as I’d healed? I believed him when he said he didn’t chain me up to try ‘woo’ me like Pam said, but instead, he was waiting to ask me if I’d be his traveling companion to find his maker. Perhaps waiting until I’d be more agreeable. I snorted. Twisted vampire logic, chain the human until she happily complies.

So, yes, maybe he was manipulative and had some fuzzy ideas about the right way to treat humans, but his intentions had never been so awful - even though I’d assumed so at every turn. Who was being the dishonorable one here? I owed him my life.

I washed the pot and cooking utensils and carried all the items back, leaving them beside the car for when Eric got back. I spent the afternoon meandering through the town, finding some new CDs for the trip, and a couple library books. I laid in the town square in the sun reading The Adventures of Tom Sayer. I couldn’t find another copy of The Bloody Chamber in the local library. There had been enough blood and gore in my life recently, maybe something lighthearted was better suited for me, anyways. 

I sat on the steps of the townhouse at sunset. An hour passed and I fidgeted in the dark waiting for his arrival, mentally scanning for him every few minutes. Where was he? I wondered if I should take the bike and see if I could locate his void. What if he was injured or in trouble? 

_Or maybe he’s ditched you,_ a quiet voice whispered inside me. _He’s found his maker now, he won’t be coming back._

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I checked the car door and found it unlocked. My heart sank when I saw the key waiting for me in the ignition. Oh, Eric. I turned the key, but to my horror, the engine only turned over but refused to start. I double checked the switch on the dash was set to the right mode to make the car run off the electric battery rather than the oil and then tried again. It turned over once more and sputtered out. 

I cursed and tried several more times before popping the hood. I shined the flashlight inside. I’d become quite handy and pretty well self-sufficient since driving across the states and living in South Carolina, so I actually had some usable knowledge when it came to cars now. I checked the spark plugs and all the leads to the battery to make sure they were in place. I tried starting it again. No bueno. 

Maybe Eric had sabotaged my car? I stopped that train of thought in its tracks, reminding myself of my earlier conclusions on the topic. It didn’t seem like something he would do. We’d made a deal and, as he’d angrily declared the night before, he had every intention of honoring it. If he didn’t want me to go anywhere he could have just taken the car key and my bike. 

The night was marching quickly on. It seemed likely Eric wasn't coming back. I hit the steering wheel in frustration. I got back out and slipped my black sweater on to protect my dress from grease or dirt damaging it. I leaned over the engine bay, carefully checking over what I could see of the timing belt. It all seemed fine. Owen was meticulous, he wouldn't send me in a car that needed a timing belt replaced. There were only two converted cars that worked for all of River Rock, and that was including this one - they were always in immaculate shape, at least mechanically speaking. It could be an ignition problem, but I'd be damned if I knew how to fix that.

Alright, I thought. Pep talk time. I could deal with this. I was resourceful. I checked the map. I was maybe a four-hour drive from River Rock, heading straight south. It was through a remote, mountainous road… It would be a risk cycling but if I prepared adequately I could make in three or so days. That would be my backup plan if I couldn’t fix the car. 

I was sitting on the curb with my dying flashlight, reading everything I could find in the manual about ignition modules when Eric landed beside me. 

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I threw the manual at him, whacking him in the leg with it. “Where have you been?!”

“What’s wrong?” He grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled me to my feet. “I felt your distress.” 

“The car won’t start and I thought you’d ditched me, you ass.” I sounded more hurt than I liked, so I folded my arms and glared at him accusingly. 

“So you naturally assumed I did something to the car?” His eyes flashed. 

“No.” 

“Ah, you were sad that I left without giving you a kiss goodbye.” He grinned, tucking a wisp of hair behind my ear in a manner that was too familiar for my tastes. I pushed his hand away. 

“No! I was distressed that the car wouldn’t start. And pissed that you were rude enough to leave without saying anything. And -” I cleared my throat, trying to cool myself down. This wasn't exactly how I'd envisioned the conversation going. “I wanted to apologize for snapping at you last night. I accused you of things that aren’t true. Well, at least I don’t believe them to be. My fae heritage is a sore spot for me and … There’s not a lot I have in this world, but what I do have I’m highly protective of. I lashed out without thinking.” 

There. I think that covered it without saying anything too revealing. He could draw whatever conclusions he wanted from that. 

“Now you're apologizing? Woman, you’re utterly unpredictable. I wasn’t probing you for details last night for any reasons outside of my own personal interest." He threw up his hands in frustration. "I find you to be wholly abstruse. Maybe it’s because I cannot glamour you to bend to my will or perhaps despite it - you’re a total mystery. You act in ways I can’t predict, you deny and challenge me at every turn on just about everything. I have no idea, absolutely none, about how to approach you!” He let out a sound of exasperation.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little tip. Taking off without a word for hours isn’t the greatest reaction. Neither is chaining me up!” I was raising my voice again, I could hear it echoing back at me from the building across the road.

“Yes, in retrospect chaining you up wasn’t the best course of action.”

“Not the best?” I scoffed. “How about, the worst?”

“Apparently so, since you still managed to escape.” 

His words caught me off guard and I laughed. He reached across and cupped my cheek.

“I want to know you,” he said softly. His thumb swept across the length of my cheekbone. I stilled, my cheek tingling under his unexpected touch. 

“Eric, I…” I focused on his lips and my words trailed away. His lips were lovely and well defined like the rest of him. Had I really not noticed them before?

“It’s alright,” he said with a slight smile. “I will respect your deal.” 

He took a step back, his hand falling away, and he lifted an opaque plastic bag from the ground beside him. “I was held up tonight finding you something. But first, show me what’s wrong with the car.” 

I smiled a little crazily at him. _He_ didn’t know how to react? Eric unnerved my every nerve. How could someone make that admission and then just breeze right on past it? What did that even mean - wanting to know me? Okay, okay, I wasn’t that naïve. He had to mean that in the biblical sense. 

He put the bag in the trunk and we looked over the engine together. He agreed with my conclusions so far but made me get into the car to try and start it so he could watch the engine at the same time. This time it didn’t turn over at all. There was a click and then nothing.

He crouched by my open window. 

“Notice anything?” He pointed to the dashboard. The display was dark. 

“The battery is flat.” I groaned and knocked my forehead against the steering wheel.

“See? Not such a crisis,” he grinned. “Something must’ve been left on all day. Interior light, perhaps.”

“But the CD player display was on when I was trying to get it started before. The dashboard lights too.” 

“You just used the last of the juice trying to get it started.” 

We searched the car carefully, looking for the cause of the power drain. I was the one to discover the cable connected to the roof mounted solar panels was loose. 

“I probably knocked it yesterday getting my stuff out of the car. I put my bag on the roof panels when I was getting my stuff out last night.” 

“No, matter.” 

“We’ve lost a day, sorry.” I sighed and pulled at my ponytail tiredly. “We won’t be going anywhere until the battery charges tomorrow. How far away is your maker?” 

Eric closed his eyes for a moment, a crease forming between his brows. 

“He’s moved considerably, even since I left you last night. He’s east of here. He could have a car, though he’s likely flying.” He opened his eyes.

“Can all vampires fly? I never realized it was a trait you all had.” 

“It’s an uncommon ability; one I inherited from my maker.”

“Whoa. That’s some genetic trait to inherit.”

“It has its uses.” He leaned back against the car, crossing his booted feet at the ankles. “So, the night is ours. What shall we do?” 

I blinked at him, my stomach turning and sputtering in much the same way as the car had been. I looked over my shoulder to the musty townhouse where I’d slept. It wouldn’t be much fun hanging out there for the evening in the dark. Well, for Eric the idea might be, but I refused to follow that train of thought. Instead, I thought back to the things I used to do to pass the time when I first traveled across the states. 

“I have an idea,” I said, smiling finally. “Grab your things.” 

I collected everything I needed for the night and following morning, and Eric grabbed his own bag. I double – triple - checked the solar panel was connected properly. Then Eric helped me pull the bike off the rack. We stopped at the grocery store and I grabbed candles, more batteries for the flashlight, as well as more water and food for the following day. Backpacks on our backs, Eric carried the groceries, while I walked the bike alongside him through the town square and across to the main street on the other side. I stopped at a real estate office that I’d spied earlier in the day.

“May I? “ Eric asked when I got my lock picking tools out. I handed them over and in a blink, he was at the door. Moments later the door swung open. He handed the keycard picking case back with a wink. 

“Show off,” I muttered. 

I shone the light into office. It was left tidy as if frozen in time. There was still a mug sitting on the receptionist’s desk, pens scattered beside the keyboard, and the desk calendar sat flipped open to February 20. A photo frame of a young couple hugging sat under a fine layer of dust beside the computer monitor.

“Why are we here?” asked Eric. 

“Turns out I’m in the market for a rental.” I tapped my chin, pretending to contemplate. “I just hope they’re willing to accept one-day leases.”

Eric, catching on, dropped down onto the receptionist’s computer chair, spun around once and leaned back. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll be more than pleased to accept any terms you’re willing to offer. One night or otherwise.” 

“You’re a dirty old perv,” I laughed. “Anyone ever tell you that?” 

“Pam. Multiple times.” 

I searched through the receptionist’s drawers and found the filing cabinet key under a plastic caddy filled with pens. 

“I used to do this when I was first traveling the states,” I explained, lifting the key to show him. “It was fun choosing a place to stay if I was hanging around for a week or so.”

I unlocked and opened up the filing cabinet, locating the drawer for the rental properties. I pulled out a random file and flicked through it. It contained old contracts for the corresponding property, advertising copy, and handouts detailing information with photos of the house. Perfect. I grabbed a stack of files and plonked them in front of Eric, then grabbed a few for myself and walked about around to the other side of the reception counter.

“Only look at places that were still under lease during the plague, that way they’re guaranteed furnished. Just have to hope there'll be no bodies. I need at least one bedroom, full-size bath. Hmm, let me think... How about open plan living with renovated kitchen? Granite bench tops a must.”

“And do you have a budget, Ms. Stackhouse?”

“Don't you worry about that - money is no object.” I bit back my laugh as Eric searched through the files at super speed. 

“Ah-hah.” He lifted a file. “I think we've got a candidate here. 2,500 square foot, ranch style home. View of the mountains. Polished oak floors. Three bedrooms. Newly renovated kitchen, featuring granite bench tops, top of the range gas cooker, stainless steel fridge and all new appliances. But the main feature of this home is its beautifully crafted stone fireplace.” 

“Ooh, sounds fancy.” I leaned over the reception counter to have a look. “I might even be tempted to put in an offer and buy it.”

“If you’re interested in buying, I’m sure we can work out a deal.” 

“Any price is fine, I’m flush with cash these days. The bank is just over the road.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. I liked him like this - this side of him, where I didn't have to worry about any hidden, odious intentions. Where things felt normal. And easy. 

“Ah.” He steepled his fingers, leaning back. “I’m afraid that may be a problem, Ms. Stackhouse, as I believe the bank has closed for the century.” 

“Oh, that really shouldn’t be a problem. I know a guy, and between the both of us we’re pretty good with locks.” I winked at him and he hit me back with a mega-watt grin.


	11. Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NSFW***

We got the keys, checked the map and set off towards my new home for the night. I sat on the handle bars of the bike feeling like I was ten years old again as Eric pedaled us to the edge of town. He took his time zig-zagging and fishtailing through the streets, pretending like he was going to topple me off. I clung on, my shrieks and laughter echoing through the neighborhood. 

Eric slowed as we rode past an old school Caprice woody wagon in the middle of one suburban street. There was a body slumped over the steering wheel. All that remained was putrefied bones and hair, the tatters of stained clothes hanging around the skeletal remains. You couldn’t tell if it was male or female, it was too far gone. The back of the wagon was packed with luggage. A dull horror sunk heavily like a concrete brick in my stomach. Some fates you just couldn’t escape. I was lucky to have made it to the vampire compound in Florida… That could’ve easily been me. I forced myself to look away and Eric rode on. 

I hopped off and walked once we reached the gravel drive. I unlocked the door and invited Eric in, not really sure if it was required or not. It was a relief to find the house was furnished but abandoned. No bodies to deal with here. We set up in the living area. I swept the floors and dusted down every surface while Eric got the fire going. 

I opened up the windows to cool and air out the house since it was really too warm for heating, though the light was needed. I lit candles and sat them on the kitchen bench (a beautiful speckled gray granite) and got the fancy gas cooktop going to make myself a cup of tea from the things I’d brought with me from the grocery store. Eric was examining pictures on the mantel above the fire when I brought my mug into the sitting area. 

“What kind of people do you think they were?” he asked, pointing to a family of five. The photo showed a middle-aged couple with three teenage sons of varying age. 

“I don’t know. They look nice. The dad looks like an accountant.” He was wearing outdated glasses and a navy polo shirt. 

“Worse. Auditor, maybe. The government once sent one to continually hound my bar. He looked as depressing as this man.” 

“No, wait, I think he’s an orthodontist. Look here, all three boys had braces. They got a family discount.” I pointed to an older Christmas portrait where the boys, younger faced and smiling, were all displaying their braces to the camera. 

Eric chuckled, “You might be right.” 

“Why is your maker calling you?” I asked, twisting to face him. The question had been niggling at my curiosity for days. 

“I am not sure.” He continued to stare at the photographs. “We have a… different relationship. Quite unlike Pam and I.” 

“Pam’s your child.” 

“Yes,” he confirmed, smiling slightly. “She’s a brat, but obedient when the need calls for it. She’s been a good companion. I’ve strived to be a good maker to her. Ocella, he…” Words seemed to fail him.

“Is he nice?”

“Is he nice?” A shadow passed across his face. “Vampires are not nice. Never nice, Sookie.” 

“So, he’s awful?” 

“I’ve heard you refer to the life before the great death as the old world, but Ocella is from the old, old world. Where vampires were completely barbarous, with zero regard for life. He cared for me and raised me in the way vampires did at that time. He had a particular taste for cruelty.” Eric’s jaw tightened, lost in memory. He straightened a photo frame in an absent movement, before continuing. “He’s an exceptional vampire, make no mistake. He shaped me to be the vampire I am today. I spent several centuries with him when I was first turned. It’s thanks to his teachings that I have thrived until today and become a formidable vampire myself, but it came at great cost. I’ve no interest in being owned by him again. We have seen little of one another since he released me many hundreds of years ago. It suits me well.”

“I wonder what made him decide to come to the states. Surely it couldn’t have been an easy trip from Europe.” 

“He was never a fan of modern society. He would be pleased with the recent events, happy to walk the earth, outranking most of his kind in age and strength, and able to hunt the remaining humans freely.”

“What you’re describing – he sounds like a monster.”

“He is. And to me, he is also my father.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, disown him? Is there any way to break your tie?” 

“The true death.” 

I felt sick. I reached down and looped my fingers through his, squeezing his hand tightly. His situation was awful and unfair, but sadly, everyone left on earth had experienced firsthand how typical that was of life nowadays. He stared down at our joined fingers and his expression softened. Eric made me sit at the island kitchen bench and placed the plastic bag in front of me. I pulled my sweater off and sat it beside me, then I untied the bag slowly. The bag seemed heavy, shaped as though there was a box or something cube-like inside. Without peeking, I asked, “So this is what held you up hours after sunset?” 

“It will be worth it.” He leaned across the bench directly opposite me, his eyes wide with enthusiasm.

“Better be,” I jokingly muttered and his cheshire cat smile widened. I opened the bag and looked in. “Oh my god.” 

Inside the bag was a cardboard carton absolutely filled with oranges. 

“Oh my god,” I repeated, my eyes brimming with tears. I lifted one from the bag and pressed it to my nose, breathing in its familiar zesty scent. It was the most unexpectedly sweet thing anyone had done for me in… ever. 

“You don’t like it. You’re leaking.” His brow furrowed. 

“No, no, no… I love it!” I laughed, wiping my eyes. “How far south did you have to go to find these?” 

“Southern Georgia. I found them growing on a tree in a suburban yard.” 

“You flew all the way to southern Georgia to find me oranges?” I whispered, pulling out another orange to smell that one too. What did he just say about vampires not being nice? Total B.S. 

“I flew to southern Georgia so I could watch you eat oranges,” he smirked. I walked around the bench and wrapped him in a tight hug, laughing and sniffling into his shirt. His arms wrapped around me in return. 

“Thank you,” I muffled against him.

“Your reaction confuses me, but you’re welcome.”

I stood on my toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek and bounced onto the sofa, sitting cross-legged. I peeled the skin off one of the oranges, the juice stinging the cracks left in my nailbeds from climbing the office building back in Jacksonville. I pulled off a segment and sighed happily with the first taste. 

“So good,” I groaned. I sucked some juice off the side of my thumb and Eric slid over the back of the couch to sit across from me. “No funny business,” I warned, pointing an orange his way. 

“No funny business.” He lifted his hands as if to show his innocence. That damned twinkle in his eye gave him away completely.

“Do you remember the taste of oranges?” I asked after I polished off the first one.

“I’ve never tried them. Vicariously speaking, they taste incredible.” He gave me his best saucy look. I didn’t even care at that moment. 

I wanted to eat the whole bag but limited myself to two oranges. By the time I had finished, Eric was looking ravenous in his own kind of way. I offered him my blood by simply leaning forward and tilting my neck. It only seemed fair after he traveled across a whole state for me. I sat still as a statue while he fed, very aware of the effect we had on each other when he drank from me. 

He fed slowly like before as if he was savoring me. I breathed in his scent. My urge for him in that moment was indescribable. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to just grab him and kiss him until I ran out of breath, or maybe for even longer than that; until the sun came up. My fingers tingled in anticipation. But was there any point? Judging by how close his maker, Ocella was, we’d probably part ways tomorrow night for good and I wasn’t a one night kind of girl. In principle, anyway. My heart and mind pulled me back and forth between the two different directions in a sort of awful tug of war.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, his breath tickled my neck. He licked the bite and pulled away. “I can feel your indecision. You won’t reg-”

I grabbed his collar and pulled his face to me, crushing my lips against his. To hell with it all. His lips were firm though still soft against mine, the faint taste of my blood mixing with the sweetness of orange. His arms surrounded me, cinching me close and his fingers trailed up through my hair, brushing against my scalp and sending tingles down my spine. 

I relaxed into the kiss, a soft moan escaping when his tongue brushed eagerly across my bottom lip. He was a hell of a kisser, the best in my short experience. He deepened the kiss and when my tongue accidentally brushed against one of his fangs I felt a rumble of pleasure through his chest. What a confidence booster. It made me feel bold and wild. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His effect on me was heady - his masculine and cool scent, the way he touched me, the feel of his smooth skin under my fingers. I was getting lost in the sensation of him. I broke away, trying to slow, trying to catch my breath. His fingertips trailed down my arms. 

“Like I said, unpredictable.” He gave me a lopsided grin that was sexy as hell. I batted him playfully on the shoulder. His hair was mussed up and fell boyishly around his face. 

“You’re just not used to women who don’t throw themselves at you and claw their way up your legs.” 

“Does that mean you will yield, lover? You will throw yourself at me too?”

I snorted. “Lord, no.”

He tried his best not to look offended.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who’s been doing the throwing.” I kissed him again, my smile getting in the way. 

“And what a body to throw myself at,” he replied. In quicker than an instant, I was reclined on the couch under him. He slid the straps of my sundress and bra partway down my arms and then busied himself covering kisses along my clavicle and shoulder. I let out a happy hum, my cares falling away. Was this what people meant when they said to live in the moment? It felt pretty damned good. 

As one of his hands became acquainted with my breasts through the fabric of my dress, I pressed my hips against his, reaching back to explore the contours of broad back and then down further to what I’d come to realize was very likely and literally the world’s finest butt currently in existence. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he chuckled throatily. I let out a squeak, my nerves fluttering rapidly in time with my heartbeat. He lifted his head and grinned at me fangily. I felt a clench of pleasure from below.

“It’s just amazing to be with someone and touch them and not be inundated with their thoughts,” I said, brushing the hair away from his forehead. 

“Am I your first, lover?” He rested his chin against my chest.

“No.” But I felt a shade too self-conscious to share my depressingly short list of romantic conquests. “The first I can enjoy, though.” 

His eyes flashed with satisfaction. He kissed me again until my head swam. 

“What are we doing here?” I half laughed, half panted between kisses.

“We’re about to have the best sex of your life, and probably my life too.” He nipped at my earlobe. The words sent a thrill down the column of my spine to straight between my thighs. 

“We’re here, but we’re parting ways soon...” I breathed.

“You look and taste incredible. I’m irresistible. I fail to see the problem.” A wandering hand traveled up the side of my leg and under the hem of my dress. 

“You know what I mean,” I sighed, torn somewhere between feeling the sensation of him and my own doubt. 

“Sookie, I haven’t survived this long without recognizing when you find a good thing you enjoy it as much as you can, while you can.” He said it with absolute sincerity. 

I studied his face carefully; how the glow of the fire softened his features. I thumbed the pale scar on his chin. It was only visible when you were up this close. I could count all the good things in my life these days on one hand. And here I had the chance to add Eric to that list, even if it was only for one brief night, in the middle of nowhere, Tennessee. 

I sat up a little and slipped my arms out from under the straps of my dress. Eric’s eyes widened a fraction, his pupils changing. I lifted my left arm and his fingers carefully pulled down the zipper at the side of my dress. With a nervous smile, I reached back and unclipped my bra. 

“You are beautiful. Perfect.” His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs lightly circling my nipples. My skin erupted in a ripple of tingles and goosebumps. 

“I think Pam’s exact words were magnificent.” 

“My child does have excellent tastes,” His eyes flicked up to catch mine, full of amusement. 

While he paid equal attention to each breast with his mouth, I managed to pull his t-shirt up and pause his ministrations long enough to pull it over his head. He was amazing, like polished marble with a smattering of blonde hair across his chest leading down in a tempting trail below the waist of his pants. 

Eric set up a makeshift bed on the floor by the fire with a navy chenille throw and cushions off the couch. I slipped off my dress during the move from the couch to the floor, Eric’s eyes following its descent. I felt self-conscious, but the way he looked at me – as if I was the only woman in the world who mattered – brought courage like a great wave breaking across me. I tugged at the waist of his trousers and he happily obliged, unbuttoning them and throwing them off at vampire speed. My eyes widened when I caught sight of his package. The good lord gave Eric Northman an extra helping, that’s for sure. 

We lay side by side with the fire warming my back, kissing and exploring each other. It was sweet and unhurried. Eric slung my leg over his hip and when his fingers dipped inside my panty line, I reached down between us to grasp him in my hand. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing, so I stroked him slowly watching how his expression changed, how his eyes glazed and the soft puff of air that escaped his lips. I captured his bottom lip in a kiss and moaned into his mouth when his fingers finally finished their teasing strokes just outside of everywhere that mattered and slipped into where they were needed. 

“So wet, Sookie,” he groaned, burying a finger deep inside me. He brushed his thumb against my clit and I arched my hips against him, searching for more contact. Eric ripped my underpants clean off me and rolled me onto my back. He slid down between my thighs and parted me gently with his fingers. I flopped my arm over my eyes and cried out with the first swipe of his tongue. No one had ever done this to me before. I’d seen the act countless time played out in the thoughts of others… Nothing could’ve prepared me for the real thing.

Eric proceeded to bring me so close to that aching peak that all coherent thought left me; it felt like I was held captive by a wave of sensation. I let out a sound embarrassingly close to a sob when he brought me to the edge yet again only to back off. I tugged him back up to kiss me. I wrapped my right leg around him and encircled his length with my hand, thrilled to find him hard and ready. I guided him to me, my hips rising to meet him. 

He hissed my name as he slowly sunk into me, moving deliberately, giving me time to adjust. I clung to him, pressing my face against his smooth neck and breathing him in. He filled me so incredibly. He stilled once he was all the way in. I whispered his name, urging him on. He stroked the back of my neck and I lifted my head to see him. 

“Look at me, lover.” His eyes blazed as he began moving against me, driving me up towards that crest once more. I moved under him, my climax built steadily with my confidence, I met his every thrust with my own, my fingers sliding between us so I could touch myself at the same time. His gaze stripped me down. It was like I could almost feel the tendril of connection in our blood; we were in sync moving together, causing it thrum between us. 

He rolled us onto our side and spooned me from behind, entering me deeply while his fingers rubbed a smooth and fast rhythm against me. I panted his name and dropped my head back against his shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as my orgasm hit, overwhelming me with its sweet mercy. I continued to move against him, though I drew his hand from between my legs up to clasp and squeeze my breast. We rocked in a steady rhythm, his whispered words and encouragements sweeping the last of my inhibitions away. I reached up to press his head to my neck and urged him on as I felt his fangs graze against the skin. He swelled within me, his speed picking and grasped my hip tightly, plunging his fangs into my shoulder and thrusting hard one final time. His groan reverberated deeply against my back as he drank, and I was swept up again in a smaller wave of bliss from my still petering out orgasm. 

He lapped at the wound, making a sound peculiarly close to a purr. I gave myself a moment, floating back to earth like a falling leaf. I rolled over and his face lit up in a killer smile. Vampire that got the cream. I let out a breathy laugh. 

“Incredible,” he said, grabbing my wrist to press a kiss against the pulse point.

“Ditto.” 

Eric Northman had careened right past the list of good things in my life to cement himself an exclusive spot onto the brand new list of amazing.


	12. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update straight away, figured you might like a little more plot accompanying your lemons.

We laid in a tangle of limbs, talking and canoodling until the fire started to die out. I had trouble wiping the smile from my face. Eric seemed pretty satisfied too. His wandering hands gravitating towards my breasts, his legs were entwined in mine. I was giddy if I was being totally honest, I’d never expected I'd able to be like this with another person - to be touching and talking and cuddling them all the while being able to relax mentally. I'd never even considered the chance existing. It felt a little like winning the lottery. I admired Eric's behind when he got up to load more logs into the heater. It really was world class. I slipped on his t-shirt and walked to the kitchen area to fix myself a snack. 

“Tomorrow.” He didn’t turn to say it, choosing to stoke the fire with hard, unnecessary jabs of the poker. I slowed my chewing and set the rest of my rice cake down on the kitchen counter. 

“Okay.” I walked back to him and took him by the elbow turning him around to face me. His expression was grim. 

“I’ve known you only a week and already you’re like an obsession,” he said. “It’s dangerous to travel on together now my maker is getting close. Ocella cannot know about you.” 

I took the poker from his hand and put it down. I hadn’t seen Eric behave in any other way than self-assured and confident. But something in him changed when he talked about his maker. It was hard to imagine someone could hold any sort of power over him. Eric commanded it. He was larger than life and so imposing in almost every way, how could it be any different? 

“Then don’t tell him about me.” I wasn't so naive to believe it would really be that easy, but the glimmer of hope was there. 

“He has the power of a maker’s command. If he suspects I’m hiding something he can force me to reveal my knowledge of you. Force me to do anything.” 

Shit on a stick. This could be a problem. 

“How long before the blood tie fades? Until you can’t track me anymore?” 

“A week or two perhaps, and then for a long time all I will feel is your presence in my blood, but not your location unless you are quite close or approaching from a distance.” 

“Okay, then wait that length of time and go to him.” 

Eric shook his head. “He will sense something is amiss if I suddenly stop my travels after days of heeding his call. It will be safest if I continue as I have been and return to him. I’ve been controlling my end of the bond to him for a long time. He hasn't felt anything from me other than my continued existence and general location. He won’t suspect anything if I act accordingly.” 

“You can’t tell him about me, Eric.” I grasped his arm urgently, my fingers pressing hard into his flesh. “Promise me you won’t lead him to me.” 

“I will make sure he never knows about you,” he said. He smiled then, the tips of his fangs running out. “Though, I _am_ tempted to go back to the car and disconnect the solar panel so we can have another night.” He pulled me in for another embrace.

I laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation, and kissed him at the top of his pec, which was as high as my mouth reached without having to look up. His fingers absently played with hair that ran down my back. Staying another night was definitely tempting. But I had to get home too. 

“Tomorrow is best. I can feel your need to return home.” He brought his hand up to cup the back of my neck possessively. “I will protect you, Sookie. And the child waiting for you at home.” 

I made a strangled sound, any words I had been planning to say extinguished. 

We made love again, more needy and desperate this time, with me ending up on top. I’d never done it like that before, so it took a little trying before I found the right rhythm. I leaned back to rest my hands on his thighs and the feel of Eric reaching me from a different angle, reaching a spot I’d never felt before, had me quickly falling apart. Eric’s hands roamed all over my body like he was trying to memorize every inch of my skin. This was him in his element, looking raw and beautiful, and I was sure that I’d forever remember this image of him, his eyes hooded with lust and blonde hair splayed all around him. I leaned forward to link his fingers with mine and I found my ending there, unable to tear my gaze from his. He followed close behind me, calling out my name between a string of words in that secret language of his I didn’t understand. He made soothing sounds after, as I lay atop him in a shuddering heap. 

I woke the next day on the couch, under the chenille blanket. My body was sore and sated. The fire burned down to coals and was nearly out. I stretched myself out with a yawn. I was pleased I didn’t have a town clock waking me today and I pottered around in the kitchen, checking the cupboards. I boiled some bottled water on the gas stove and made a pot of coffee with a French press I’d found. 

I sat out on the back patio warming my legs in the sun and letting the coffee do its work. To my delight, I heard some familiar sounds nearby and I made my way through the overgrown garden to find some chickens scratching through a garden bed where the property edge met the forest. It was a wonder they’d survived this long. Who knew, maybe with the humans gone it was a chicken’s world out there? I found myself grinning. I discovered their coop behind a stand of small birch trees and boiled myself eggs for breakfast.

I took time to enjoy the moment. The sun was filling me up like fuel in a tank, the coffee smelled divine, and last night I’d been screwed silly by a tall hunk of a vampire. I just chose not to think about the fact I’d never see him again after tonight.

I used the last of my fresh water to brush my teeth and wash my face. If I got back to River Rock tonight I could have warm a bath. But I also knew from the map there should be a stream a few hundred yards into the forest at the bottom of a small embankment on the property’s edge. I raided the bathroom and took some items down to the creek. It was bubbling along fast and looked clear, though the water level was low. The cold was a shock to my bones, but I managed a quick and thorough wash of my hair and body. 

I dressed in denim shorts and a button up floral blouse that I knotted at the bottom, I brushed out my hair and left it out to dry in the sunshine. On the way back I wandered around the house admiring the garden. It was overgrown but beautiful. Large hydrangea bushes were in full bloom, my favorite flower budding in cheerful hues of blues and pinks and purples. I picked off a small stem of blue flowers from the corner of a larger frond and tucked it behind my ear. I rounded the corner and to my surprise found a large rainwater tank. I stacked some logs and stood on them to peek under the lid. I scooped up a handful of water. It was clean and fresh. I could’ve had a shower!

I was walking back into the house when I first detected the thoughts. 

A group of seven people, approaching from the west. One was a young girl, no more than eight; she was thinking about a pony toy she’d seen in a store but hadn’t been allowed to take. The rest of the group were a mix of men and women. One woman had snarly, staticky thoughts - the hallmark of a were. They had seen the smoke from my chimney against the early light of dawn and were coming to find me. They were armed, looking for supplies. From what I could tell, they weren’t bad folk, but not necessarily good. Typical of people these days.

I ran back inside and gathered up everything. There was too much, even between both mine and Eric’s bag. I didn’t have time to repack neatly and make it fit. I left most of the groceries but packed the oranges and our clothes. I threw the leftover water from the kettle onto the dying coals. I stood in the living area and picked up the chenille blanket. The mushy, weak part of me that I rarely, if ever, indulged wanted to take it with me. With a sigh, I left it on the couch but pocketed the house keys on my way out the door. Not enough room for a blanket, but I could always make a little room for sentimentality. 

Wearing my backpack across my chest and Eric’s across my back, I rode into the opposite direction of where they were coming from and then doubled back into town. I got all the way to the car before realizing Eric must’ve still had the keys in his pocket. Shit! I kicked the tire. He'd even locked the doors. It was a rookie mistake to leave the car parked in the open. The huge solar panel mounted on the car’s roof would be a dead giveaway to anyone passing through. I considered my options. I only needed to get it moving far enough to hide it somewhere. 

I found a coat hanger inside the townhouse I’d stayed in two nights earlier and used it break into the car easily. I eased off the handbrake and slowly pushed it down the street, walking alongside it, with the driver’s door open as I steered. Definitely not easy work. I found an alley between townhouses and spent a frustrating twenty minutes pushing and turning the car into it. 

I jogged back out to grab the bike and stash it with the car. But it was too late. Down the street and across the town square I could see and sense a figure. I’d been so occupied with hauling the car up the alley I missed it. 

“Hey!” he called. He was middle aged, human and bulky like a stereotypical bike. Equal parts stocky and muscly. He even had the requisite bushy, gray beard. He jogged over to me, rifle strapped to his shoulder. I shoved the bike into the bushes in front of the townhouse. It wasn’t hidden, but the back wheel where the solar panel was mounted was out of view, at least. 

“Howdy,” I smiled when he reached me. 

“We’ve been looking for you,” he said, his chest heaving with exertion. 

“Oh, you have?” I nodded and my smile widened. It wasn’t the most natural response. In Bon Temps, people called it my Crazy Sookie smile. Stress does funny things to a woman, especially when you hear a person’s intentions straight from their head. I worked hard my whole life to stop that involuntary smile. The one kink in my poker face game I just couldn’t iron out. My reaction put the man immediately ill at ease. 

“Where’s the car?” he asked, he looked around my shoulder. “I was s’posed to be waiting with the car while they tracked you down.”

“What car?” I asked innocently. 

“The car that was right here!” He gestured to where we were standing. 

“I didn’t hear any car. If you were meant to be waiting here, why weren’t you?” 

“I got hungry, then I had to go dig a hole.” I caught a flash of what he meant. He had been attending to his, uh, human needs.

“Alright, okay. TMI. Just saying using the bathroom like a normal person.”

“Who are you here with, then? They must have the car.” 

“I’m here on my own.” True enough. I had no idea where Eric spent the day.

“You’re lying.” He swung the rifle around and pointed it at me. I took a step back and lifted my hands. “I saw that car clear as day" he said. "You either moved it, or you’re here with someone who did.” 

“I swear to God, I’m not lying. I told you I didn’t hear a car and I didn’t.” 

“You being smart? Think it’s funny talking sass to a man who has a rifle and 150 pounds on you?” 

“No, sir. It’s definitely not funny - I’m just not worried. I know what you’re thinking.”

“Sweetheart, I highly doubt that.” 

“You’re not going to shoot me, at least not until Barb and the rest of the group get back. You’re also annoyed you forgot to ask them to leave you lunch. Cup-a-Noodles.” 

“What are you? Some kind of witch?” His eyes were wide with alarm. He almost took a step back from me until he caught himself. 

“Nope. You mind if I sit, John? I think we’ll be waiting a while for Barb and the others.” 

I sat down on the curb and busied myself retying my shoelace neatly. John kept the gun trained on me in fear. Eventually, he would realize I was an unarmed 130 pound, 5’6 woman. I wouldn’t be wrestling the gun from him or escaping any time soon. 

I picked through his mind, trying to prepare myself for my current predicament. John thought Barb was a ruthless bitch, but grudgingly gave her his respect for the way she took care of the group. She was a were of some sort. It took a little while before I worked it out. I caught an image. Ah. She was a were-falcon. Didn’t even know there was such a thing. The group was passing through town that morning when they smelled the smoke from the fire that Eric lit. Then they found the car. Barb had shifted and flown over the town, scouting the home I’d spent the night in. 

Their plan was to find me, get the keys, and if I proved to be a liability, kill me. Damn it, Eric. Why did you take my gun off me? 

* * *

The group came back sometime after the clock chimed out three pm. Barb was a mean looking were. In looks, she was like an older, meatier version of Arlene, a waitress I’d been friends with at Merlotte’s. The dark red hair, hazel eyes, and that general air of always being displeased. Bitch face. Barb's temperament was much fouler.

“What the fuck happened, John.” She was carrying a cross-bow. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. Did she think this was a zombie apocalypse? Why on earth would she need one of those things? John fumbled over his words until I stood up. Her head snapped towards me. 

“I moved the car when John left to relieve himself,” I said. I listened to her internal barrage of thoughts as she snarled over John’s ineptitude.

“What’s your name, girl?”

I bristled. I was a woman – and she was trying to establish dominance. 

“Sookie. You must be Barb.”

“Give me the keys, show us where the car is, and we’ll be on our way. No harm will come to pass.” 

“That won’t be possible, I’m afraid.” I shook my head slowly. 

“The request wasn’t optional.” She leveled the crossbow at me. Oh, good Lord. This woman was a bully. I snuck a quick look at the rest of the group. They had backed off several yards. Even John was looking unhappy. The little girl I’d heard back at the house was spying on me from behind the pant leg of a tall, stony-faced man. She was terrified and recalling a time where Barb had killed to get her way. Recalling many times. I felt a flutter of panic travel through me. 

“My traveling companion has the keys,” I said, looking back to Barb.

“Let me guess - a vampire,” she sneered, her eyes flickered to my neck and the bite mark there. “You reek of him. Pathetic. ” She just about the spat the words. A ripple of fear passed through the remaining group of humans. 

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll agree to disagree, blood whore.” She approached me and took hold of my arm. “If he has the keys, then how did you move the car?” 

I explained to her how I broke in and moved it around the corner and out of sight. 

"Where is your vampire?"

"I don't know. He's never shown me his resting place and we were just passing through for the night," I said. 

“Show me where the car is," she said, nostrils flaring. Her dark, lined brows pointed down in a way that was eerily similar to the steely gaze of her falcon alter ego. "We’ll just wait him out until sunset. I think a pretty blonde hostage might convince him to hand over the keys.” 

I showed her the alley where the car was parked, leaving the others behind on the street. Barb took her time searching through it and all my belongings. She passed right over my oranges. As silly as it was, I felt awash with relief. I sunk back against the alley wall, sat down and waited. There was nothing I could do. She was volatile. It was safest to wait and see if I could get an advantage or just wait for sunset when Eric would surely come and kick her ass. 

“Stand up,” she barked, walking over to me. 

I stood and dusted off the back of my cutoffs. Still holding the crossbow, she ordered me to hold out my arms. She patted down my blouse and shorts with her free hand. She felt the lump of the house keys in my front pocket, where I’d shoved them earlier. She growled and tried to slip her hand in, but the pocket was too tight and awkward to reach since she was coming in with one hand facing from the front. 

“Empty your pockets,” she snapped. “I can feel your keys.”

“They’re just house keys.”

“Listen bitch, I’m the one with the weapon.” She withdrew a step and lifted the crossbow up as if I hadn’t seen it until then. “I give the orders, you do what I say.” 

"Okay, okay... Just please, stop pointing that thing in my face."

She lowered her weapon slightly and the red snarly static of her mind momentarily cleared like fast moving clouds past the sun and I saw the way in which she viewed me. Dim. Glamoured. Disposable. 

A millisecond passed, my mind racing through multiple options before settling on one. I pulled my hand out slowly and then punched her square in the eye, my fist closed around the keys, with one of the keys on the ring poking between two fingers. It was a trick Jason showed me for the nights I worked late at the bar and had to walk across the lot to my car alone. A little piece of homemade southern self-defense.

Barb screamed and automatically reached for her eye. I ditched the keys and grabbed for the cross bow, pointing it up. I kicked her in the stomach, knocking her backward. She pulled me and the crossbow with her heavily to the ground. 

“You little bitch!” she screeched. 

I wrestled on top of her, twisting myself until my knees were leaning hard on the arm holding the crossbow, trying to immobilize it. I punched at her head repeatedly, hoping to knock her out. I just needed enough time to disarm her! My knuckles flared with pain. Jesus, no one tells you how much punching someone in the face hurts. She kneed me in the stomach, knocking the breath from me. I collapsed heavily over her. She socked me in the jaw with her free hand, the contact rattling my brain and jolting me into her thoughts. 

She had my gun! She’d found it in the car. 

I forgot about the crossbow and lunged for her other hand, but she’d already pulled the gun from her waistband. There was a muffled bang and I felt a jolt through my arm. I cried out in rage. No! I wasn’t dying here, not in this dank alley, not after everything I’d been through and everything I’d done to get this far! 

I elbowed her nose, adrenaline coursing through me like a cold wildfire and she grabbed me by the hair yanking my head back. We tussled over the concrete and I heard the gun clatter from her hand somewhere behind us near the forgotten crossbow. I made my critical mistake then, lunging for the gun instead of focusing on wrestling her, and in that second she was on top of me, forcing me onto my back and holding me down by the forearm across my throat. I was pinned. She leaned forward over me, reaching out with her fingertip to grab for the gun. It was just outside her grasp. I twisted and thrashed, distantly hearing her yell to the others for back up. 

I felt woozy, she was cutting off blood supply to my head. I would pass out if I didn’t get her to let up quick. I gasped for air, a strange gurgle erupting from my throat. I knew I had only moments if I was going to survive this. With the last reserves of my everything, I head-butted her straight in the temple. Pain exploded across my face and she slipped off me, stunned momentarily like a bird after flying into a window. 

I scrambled over her, seizing my advantage and picked up the gun. Barb was curled on her side, nose bloody, her eye swollen and bleeding from my earlier strike. I got to my feet and pointed the revolver at her. My left arm didn’t seem to want to straighten properly, so I resorted to raising the gun with just my dominant arm. My right hand shook, but I was close enough it wouldn’t matter. 

I pointed at her thigh and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The safety! Barb rolled from her side onto her back and grabbed the crossbow. I felt her surprise when she realized there was no longer an arrow loaded in the weapon. She began to shift – to change into her alter form. I let out a cry. She was escaping! I flicked back the safety, aimed higher than her thigh and fired. Once. Twice. Three times. 

She collapsed back onto the concrete. One shot got her in the throat, the other in her shoulder, and one in her head. I had no idea in which order. She was a mess, blood and flesh and bone. Those damned silver hollow points had been designed for vamps. 

I felt her mental imprint rapidly shrink, I saw a flash of a young woman’s face and then her mind snuffed out of existence. I panted wildly, spinning to point the gun towards the alley entrance where I expected the others to be. I let out a sob of relief when I reached out with my telepathy and realized they were in fact retreating. I stared at the revolver in my hand. My knuckles were white, I was gripping it so tightly. 

I’d just killed a woman. 

I walked out to the street. My face and lips felt wet. I licked my lips instinctively and the taste was strangely metallic. Every moment that passed and movement I made felt like it was simultaneously sped up and slowed down. And the pain. It was everywhere, but mostly my face. Throbbing and rattling and messy.

“Does anyone else here have a problem with me?” I called to the rest of Barb’s group. It felt like I was watching everything from a distance. Like a movie. Even my voice seemed disembodied. 

The group was gathered near where the car had been originally parked. I walked towards them, my legs quaking with adrenaline. John dropped the rifle and lifted his arms straight in the air. The little girl began crying and was shielded behind the trousers of the same man and another woman beside him. The woman was short with mousy brown hair, guarded eyes. I pointed the gun to a bald, portly man at the back of the group. 

“Drop your gun. The one you have in your pocket, sir.” 

“Y-yes ma’am.” He pulled it out and threw it down. I walked over and kicked it far away from him. 

“Sorry,” I said to the group. I checked the safety was on and stuffed my revolver into my waistband. The magnum barrel felt hot against my skin. I held my hands out, partly in supplication but mostly to show them I wasn’t planning on harming them. “She’s dead. I shot her… She’s dead.” Okay, I was repeating myself now. I turned back to look at the alley to double check she was, in fact, dead. My mind swept the area. Yep, definitely dead. “She was going to kill me. She called me a bitch and I've… I’ve never killed a person before.” 

The man guarding the girl nodded with a wary expression. He thought I looked crazed. Capable of anything. Was that how I really appeared? Surely not. 

“Are you going to kill us?” he asked.

“No. At least, not unless you attack me first. I don’t, I’ve-” I stumbled over the words. “I’ve never done that before.” 

I went to pick up John’s rifle, and blood poured out like a faucet from my face to the pavement as soon as I bent over. 

“Oh,” I touched my nose. “I’m bleeding.” So that was the metallic taste. My lips were coated.

“Does it hurt?” John asked.

“Yes? No? I don’t know.” I wiped my hand on my shorts. Another good pair of cut-offs ruined. 

“No, I mean your shoulder.” He pointed at my left side.

“My shoulder?” I twisted to look. “Shit.” 

“You’re in shock,” he said gently. 

The crossbow arrow had pierced through my upper arm and right out through the top of my shoulder. It looked comical, like something from a Monty Python sketch. It didn’t hurt. Well, not until the moment I noticed it. John helped me down to sit on the curb. 

“What time is it?” I asked weakly. I lifted my blouse to pinch my nose. As soon as I touched it, my face radiated with pain. I groaned. The bone felt like mush. 

“Uh…” John was too busy consumed with wondering if I was either a witch, or a zombie, or something else completely unnatural. 

“It’s nearly 4 o’clock,” the little girl said, peeping around from behind the man. “I can see the town clock!” 

I nodded my thanks at her. 

“Barb was mean,” she declared, wiping her nose with a sniffle. Her face was red and puffy from crying but her gaze was steady. “She was always mean to me.” 

Alarmed, the woman standing beside her shushed the girl. I let go of my nose, then I undid the knot on the blouse and mopped my face with it. I’d just killed a woman. A mean woman. But she was a living breathing person. With thoughts and feelings that I had destroyed forever. Thoughts and feelings she would never think or feel again. My brain was scrambled. I didn’t know what to think. 

“She was mean.” I finally managed to say. Better to stick to things we agreed upon. “Was she your leader?” 

The girl nodded.

“I don’t understand, why are you guys still traveling around?” I addressed the rest of the group. “Why haven’t you settled somewhere?” 

They looked quietly between themselves, after a moment the short woman spoke up.

“Barb was our unofficial leader. Me, Abby and Robby here were stuck in Tacoma after the plague had come and gone, being tracked by a couple vampires. Barb came along with John and staked them. We’ve been traveling since, picked up the others along the way. She is,” she paused suddenly and cleared her throat uneasily. “Sorry, she _was_ mean, as Abby said, but she took care of us. Loyal. She was a hunter. She’d shift and provide food for us. Rabbit, mostly. We stayed a little while in Atlanta, there’s a big community there on the outskirts. But there was trouble.” 

I saw in her mind the kind of trouble she was referring to. 

“She wasn’t well liked and so she killed the folk she didn’t get along with.” 

“Essentially? Yes. At the last place, she had a difference of opinion over the distribution of jobs. It ended badly. We were driven out - the lot of us. I can’t say it was the first time we’d run into that sort of trouble on the road. We’d only been in Atlanta a week.” She shook her head slowly in disappointment. “She was a problem. I don’t think any of us knew how to address it. Or her. I guess we’ve just been waiting for it to catch up with her.” 

_And we’re damn lucky, I always assumed we’d be caught up in the fray too,_ she thought. She sighed and pulled Abby close, looping her arm over the girl’s shoulders protectively. Abby looked up at her and smiled at the small comfort. 

“Do you want me to look at your shoulder? I’m a trained nurse,” the woman said. I checked her thoughts again for confirmation and gave her a watery smile. I understood from her mind what she was trying to say by offering help without being so explicit in front of Abby. I’d done them a favor killing the were. It would be okay. 

“There’s some real damage here,” she whispered, crouching before me. She’d spent a minute looking it over. Other than what was coming from my nose, there wasn’t a lot of blood, though my arm was stained red. 

The pain was making itself known in great waves now. I couldn’t move my arm without crying out. Hard to believe I’d fought Barb to the death with an arrow in my shoulder. I’d also given up on breathing through my nose, the pain was centered there like a giant throbbing sun. 

“Your nose I can set easily enough, but the arrow? I’ll have to cut off the nib and then pull it out. It might have pierced an artery. We won’t know until it’s out.” Her dark eyes filled with worry, and they traveled down to the visible bite mark on my neck. “Was Barb right? Are you really traveling with a vampire?”


	13. Exposure

The short nurse, who introduced herself as Bec, carried my bag and helped me into the townhouse where I’d slept during my first night in town. She had first ushered everyone off to their camp and told me resolutely that she was to wait with me until Eric arrived. 

I laid on the bed drifting in a sort of twilight. That period of consciousness where you’re not quite awake, not quite asleep. It was as if my mind was retreating within myself, trying to cope with the pain and unpleasantness. Her hand took mine and squeezed me tightly, it was small but sturdy within my own. I clasped it gratefully. She hummed a soft tune, her honeyed voice rolling over the notes. I followed it, listening with my ears and mentally. I desperately needed the distraction. All I saw Barb’s mutilated body in my own mind. The splatter of gore on the pavement. There would be no escaping that image. I was sure it would be burned into the back of my eyelids forever. 

I didn’t have to kill her. Why did I kill her? She as intent on killing me, sure. But I could have shot her thigh and tied her up… What kind of person did that make me? What kind of Christian was I? I wrestled with the feelings, my thoughts volleying between being consumed with throbbing pain and the horror of the afternoon.

I heard a roar and a crashing downstairs. Eric was here. My eyes snapped open and I focused on keeping still, trying my best to minimize the discomfort in my shoulder while waiting for my eyes to adjust to the low light. Bec had placed small oil lantern on the bedside stand and it illuminated the room in a flickering, soft glow. My vision swirled as the door burst open. I had assured Bec she would be safe from Eric, but she was questioning my judgment in that second. 

Eric stood, feral and growling, covered in dirt and buck naked. He blurred to the bed and Bec stumbled over herself getting out of the way. 

“Your blood is everywhere outside. Who harmed you? I will tear them limb from limb,” he snarled. He was just about panting, his pupils dilated and dark as deep wells. He grabbed Bec by the arm. “Was it you, woman?” 

Bec yelped. 

“Not her, she’s been helping me. It was a were,” I told him. Eric let Bec go and she retreated with her back against the door, ready to escape. “The were tried to kill me. I killed her first.” 

His eyes darted back and forth across my form, assessing me. “She shot your arm?” 

“Oh, you know me. Accident prone. Wouldn’t be the first time,” I joked weakly. He didn’t react to my words, he simply radiated anger. He looked lethal. Not at all like the vampire I had spent the previous evening with. This was the beast that lay dormant under the all the charm and self-assuredness. 

Eric’s squatted beside me, his shoulders tense and expression stiff with concentration as he looked me over. He began by pressing his firm fingers on the area around the arrow, examining it. I winced. He moved on, lifting my chin to examine my nose (which Bec had set) and the bruises across my neck, then down to check my other arm and my legs for injury. He lifted my blood stained blouse and prodded my abdomen. I was relieved when Bec decided to step out of the room to give us privacy.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” 

I reached out with my good hand and took his. I realized with a start that my knuckles were swollen and split. I brushed some dirt flecks off the back of his hand and told him the events of the day. I had some idea why he was naked and dirty and as shocking as his appearance was, I couldn’t find myself in a position to care. He listened as I told my story, interrupting only to tersely ask questions. He made sure I revealed every last detail. 

“I was reckless,” he said, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand soothingly. “I lit the fire that brought them. I took the gun from you. You suffered my foolishness.” He clenched his jaw again, his eyes sweeping to survey me once more. 

“Oh, you hush. I would’ve been dead days ago if it weren’t for you. It’s not your fault a psycho were-bitch decided to try and off me. I should’ve known better than to let you leave the car somewhere visible.” 

He didn’t seem convinced, but the hard crease between his brows relaxed some. 

“I’m proud of you. You were fearless and strong. You fought bravely and you were victorious.” 

“Was I?” I asked uncertainly. He made it sound completely different to how it felt. Like I was a noble warrior who valiantly defeated her foe, not the reality, where two desperate women fought in a dirty alley to the death and one ended up with her brains blown out. I didn’t win by any great feat of strength or agility. It was luck and opportunity.

“Yes,” he said with absolute conviction. “The nurse will assist me now in healing you.” He stood up to go find her.

“Wait – do you think maybe you could…?” My eyes drifted down his naked frame. “Your clothes.”

“Sookie, you have an arrow through your shoulder. Are you really more concerned by my modesty?” He looked baffled. 

I wanted to shrug, but I gave him my best helpless look. He rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself before blurring away, presumably to where I left the car. He was back within a minute, dressed in boots, dark jeans, and a black t-shirt. He kneeled by the bed and fed me from his wrist, keeping the act perfunctory considering Bec was standing by, though I kept my eyes on his while I drank. I saw the way his expression softened and glazed. 

After, he had Bec bear her weight across my chest and good shoulder, holding me in place. Eric kneeled beside the bed. He snapped the tip off the arrow and, without warning, pulled it out in a single swift movement. I gasped and let out a string of curses that would have had Gran rolling in her grave. I watched as the wound began to knit shut, aided by Eric dripping blood from his finger over the puncture wounds. 

“Leave us.” 

Bec stood hesitantly, giving me a chary look. 

“It’s fine,” I told her. “Really. Thank you for all your help. I’ll come and find you all later at the camp. There’s some things we ought to talk about.” 

She left, feeling torn. Not surprising, considering the reputation vampires had gained after the great death. Eric hadn’t helped that much storming in looking like a wild man either. She thought I was in his thrall. And maybe I was, but not in the way she thought. I let out a long sigh when I heard the door downstairs shut. I pressed my nose gingerly. The bones felt like they were knitting back together. I gently removed the bandage.

“You took a big risk.” He pressed his lips to my healing shoulder, lapping at the remains of blood and then gently nuzzled his cheek against it. “You would make a magnificent vampire, Sookie.”

I opened my mouth and then shut it. I settled for shaking my head resolutely. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less. 

“It’s no matter. It’s expressly forbidden with the human population being so low.” He looked up at me, his eyes a dark, nebulous blue. “Look after the life you do have, Sookie. You’re mortal, though you may not act like it.” It wasn’t the most comforting words but he meant them, which somehow had the right effect. 

Eric left me dozing while he traveled to retrieve his belongings from his resting place. He explained that he had decided to go to ground in the forest beside the house in which we had spectacular sex. His words, not mine. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he returned. I didn’t feel as high I first did when I drank his blood back on Jupiter Island, but the sleep felt healing. I felt almost normal, maybe even stronger than before. 

He helped me out of bed and we walked slowly back to where the car was parked, with Eric clasping my hand tightly as if I would vanish into smoke from under his grip. I stopped on the street out of view from the alley. I really didn’t want to see Barb’s body again. Eric unzipped a small pocket at the top of my bag, one reserved for MP3 players, and pulled the car key out. 

“Is that where the key was… since last night?” I asked, that disembodied feeling returning again. 

Eric looked at me cautiously, answering with a single, measured ‘yes’. 

“That whole time,” I said. 

“Yes. We’re lucky she didn’t find it when she searched your bag.”

“Lucky…” I repeated dully. 

“Sookie…?” Eric looked at me oddly. I burst into tears and sank down onto the curb. I hugged my knees and buried my still tender face into them. Oh God, if I had only looked properly and found that key I wouldn’t have had to… I wouldn’t have needed… My sobs came out in great wracking heaves. 

Eric didn’t move from where he was standing, though he did say my name a few times. He fell silent when he realized I wasn’t capable of responding. I’ll hand it to him, he at least let me get on with it for a good while. 

“Sookie,” he said finally, his tone commanding. I lifted my head. “Just… stop. Don’t cry.” He shifted on his feet, looking deeply uncomfortable. “Don’t cry here. I’ll take you back to the house and you can cry there.” 

I rested forehead on my knees again and continued my tears. I couldn't move, my legs felt like lead. There was a very real possibility I was stuck here forever. 

"I can't move," I said pathetically.

“You can. Stop crying unnecessarily.” He moved in front of me and gently lifted my hand. Crying unnecessarily? If he considered this unnecessary, then at what point would he consider crying necessary? 

“You’re really shit at this, you know?” I said when he pulled me to my feet. He cracked a grin and my tears turned into a shaky, hiccuping laugh.

As he drove, I rested my forehead against the cool glass of the window watching the dark shapes of empty homes pass by. If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost feel the tendril of our blood tie. But it was like shining a light on a shadow. I could only feel it until I specifically reached for it - and then it was gone. It was still there, though, just out of reach. A sensation of him inside me, faint like a distant beacon, yet indisputable.

“I can feel you,” I said. I felt his gaze turn to me. 

“We share a bond. The effect isn’t permanent. But if we share blood once more, it will be.” 

I tried the faucet when we got back to the house. The pipes had stained the water brown, but water rushed through immediately. We turned on all the taps in the house until the water ran clear. I thought of my old farmhouse, how it had that one funny pipe that led to the laundry faucets. It made the water brown for the first ten seconds when you’d turn it on. For a moment I was transported back to my old home, with its squeaking screen door, the loved and worn kitchen table that had been passed down through generations of Stackhouses. I could almost catch the smell of Gran’s biscuits baking in the oven. I felt a deep tug of homesickness.

Eric was hesitant to do it again, but lit the fire when I pouted. I think we’d attracted all the psycho bitches in the area for at least one twenty-four hour period. I ate a bowl of cooked ramen noodles and enjoyed another orange, while Eric heated pots of water on the stove and carried them to the bath. I reclined on an armchair by the fire watching him diligently zip back and forward, my heart swelling.

Candles lined the bathroom counter, the light reflecting off the mirror and illuminating the room. Eric washed the dirt off himself in the cold shower. I slipped completely under in the bath and scrubbed my limbs and torso down with a bar of soap I found in the cabinet under the basin. I paid extra care to my shoulder, it didn’t hurt but still felt fresh. 

“Are all vampires this cuddly?” I asked when Eric got in behind me and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. “Or is it just you?” 

He hummed a sound of agreement into my neck, which didn’t really answer my question, and he began pressing the area with wet kisses. His hands moved through the water to massage my breasts. I grabbed the soap and lathered my hands. I washed his arms and legs carefully, committing every rise and fall of muscle and flesh and bone to memory. I turned around, kneeling between his thighs and repeated the actions for his chest and arms. 

“Thank you for helping me today. You’ve healed me twice now.” 

“A worthy use of my blood. I’m just disappointed I missed out on the action. I would’ve enjoyed killing the were,” he smiled fangily and tweaked my nipple. 

“Oh, brother.” I rolled my eyes and flicked the water off the tips of my fingers at him. “It was awful. I know I should feel guilty for killing her... but I just feel glad that she’s gone, especially if it means I’m here instead. I would’ve avoided it all if I’d just found that key. I regret not finding it, but then I’m still glad she’s dead.” I struggled to find the right the words. “I guess I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.”

“She invited death with her actions, Sookie. Be proud of yours.” 

“I have no idea what to make of that. How can I be proud of taking someone’s life?” 

“I’m proud of you for surviving. For your self-preservation. You saw a moment of advantage and took it, no hesitation.” 

My smile was wobbly and I pressed a kiss to his chest. Eric had a way of getting to the heart of it, without unnecessary platitudes. I straddled him and took hold of his erection which had been standing to attention from the moment he’d taken off his clothes to shower. He pulled me close for a rough kiss.

He uttered my name hoarsely as I stroked him up and down with one hand and ran the fingers of my other hand simultaneously through his damp hair. It was a strange contrast, under the water his body felt warm but above the waterline, he was still chilled from the shower. 

He squeezed my ass and thighs before slipping his fingers down and under to touch me until the point I was ready and gasping. I lifted myself over him and then slowly lowered down onto him, our moans echoing across the tiled room in unison. He gripped my hips as I rolled and rocked against him, helping me carry the momentum. I grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him deeply. It scared me how easy it was to lose myself in the sensation of him. Eric Northman was an experience. I stroked my tongue against his fangs, inadvertently slicing it against the tip. He growled and sucked hard on my tongue. 

“Sookie,” he groaned against my mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His words and the gravelly timbre of his voice sent a wild thrill galloping through me. I clenched around him involuntarily. 

“Then give me all you got, honey.” 

I let out a shriek when we landed in front of the fire seconds later with me under him. I don’t know if he flew me or ran, it was too fast to comprehend. I let out an exhilarated laugh and he grinned at me, his fangs shining in the light. He slid straight back into me with a sudden hard thrust and I cried out, a mix of surprise and pleasure. He rode me hard, one of my legs slung over his shoulder, his pelvis grinding against me with every deep stroke. My orgasm hit me hard and unexpected, and I clung to him as he followed close behind, roaring my name.

Eric relaxed onto me afterward, his heavy weight a comfort. I wrapped my trembling legs around him and stroked the backs of his arms. He let out a contented murmur and slid to his side, leaving his head resting against my chest. I stroked his hair while he traced lazy circles with his fingertips on my stomach. 

“You’re still leaving tonight, aren’t you?” I didn’t know how I knew, maybe it was his comment during sex or the needy way he’d kissed me. His fingers faltered for half a second before continuing their wandering trail.

“His call is growing insistent,” he said, marking the top of my breast with a kiss. “It’s as if he is clawing within me now, trying to drag me away.” 

“How far will I need to drive you?” I focused on staring at the photo frames and knick-knacks on the mantelpiece. I was a Stackhouse, and Stackhouses were neither fainters nor criers. I wouldn’t cry, even if it felt like I was sitting on a full-to-bursting suitcase of emotion, trying to keep it strapped shut. I refused to let that case pop open, because if I did then I’d have to acknowledge what was inside and I’d be dunzo. 

“I can make it to him by dawn from here without you driving me.” 

“Really?” That threw me for a loop. 

“I may have exaggerated the distance between he and I since arriving here.” He had the good sense to sound somewhat contrite.

“Oh.” What did that mean? That he stayed longer than he needed to? Why? My thoughts fell naturally to one answer. I blinked rapidly. Remember you’re a Stackhouse, I told myself sternly. 

“What are you planning on discussing with the others at the camp?” he asked, steering the conversation in a different direction. I was grateful. I’d have time to deal with my suitcase of emotions tomorrow… and over the course of the rest of my life. 

“I’ll give them directions back to the community where I live. Invite them to stay. I don’t know if they’ll accept.” 

“They’ll accept,” he said confidently. “They will be aimless with the were gone.” 

“Jessup won’t be happy.” I suddenly felt very tired just considering returning home to River Rock with newcomers. Having to meet and explain myself to the stern faced were. The reality of everyday life came back to me with a great whoosh. People were waiting on me. One small, brown-haired child, in particular. 

They all likely thought I was dead… And here I was touched that Eric had purposefully delayed meeting his maker for at least one night. That translated to an extra night’s worry for Donna and Jessup, for everyone that I’d come to know in River Rock. 

But I was split in two halves. One Sookie, jumping up and down thrilled that her vampire lover had decided to drag out the trip a little longer, the other, incredibly cross at his high-handedness and ashamed by my own willingness to cast it all aside to jump into bed with him. And it was my annoyance, as was usual for me, that won out. 

“You know, I have people waiting on me, Eric.” I kept my tone purposefully calm. He would very well feel my ire after the fresh lot of blood we’d just shared. “They are probably worried sick and thinking I’m dead.” 

“Lover, you certainly didn’t seem to be complaining when the car broke down and I was there to help. Or when we got back to the house last night…” 

“Don’t try and turn this on me. Have you ever have children? I don’t mean Pam. I mean back in your human life. Didn’t you feel a sense of responsibility to them?” 

He lifted his head to look at me, I propped myself up on my elbows. 

“Yes, I had children in my human life…” He had a kind of faraway look to him. I suppose thinking of your long lost family from one thousand years ago _was_ faraway. “Some were my brother’s, he died while out raiding. Some were my own.” It was strange to imagine Eric as a family man. I pictured small children tugging at his trouser leg and asking to be held. Eric wiping snotty noses and telling bedtime stories. I sighed and rubbed my face tiredly. Today’s events were rapidly piling up on top of me. 

“I could have been home already.” I let out a frustrated groan.

“I understand the responsibility, Sookie. I felt it keenly in the time after I was turned. My wife died in childbirth some years before I was turned and then I was taken from my family without warning. It was an effort to let go of that responsibility. My maker… saw to that.” I felt a prickle rising on my neck. There was something awful there he wasn’t telling me, I desperately wanted to ask but the words wouldn’t form. 

“What I do remember from my human days,” he continued. “Was that even with responsibility, you must take time to enjoy life... Undead or not.” He waggled his brows and dropped another kiss to my breast. “I’ve enjoyed the way you tip your head back exposing that lovely throat of yours when you laugh. The way your face flushes red when I tease you and fuck you. The surefooted way in which you walk, hips swinging. How you take me to task over everything as if I’m as harmless as a flea. So yes, I’ve been selfish. I’m a selfish being. But I believe you’ve been long overdue for some selfish enjoyment too." 

I huffed and laid back down. Maybe he was right. And I was beginning to suspect Eric could charm the pants off a marble statue. 

Eric continued kissing my breasts, his tickling fingers sliding further down past my waist to below my hips and between my legs. Lord save me, the effect this vampire has on me. After another round of selfish enjoyment, we lay entwined facing the fire, the blanket pulled up to our hips. I clasped his hand tightly around my waist, Eric spooning from behind. 

“His name is Hunter,” I said, I watched the low flames as they licked and curled around the logs in the hearth. Eric waited for me to continue. 

“He was Hadley’s boy. When Hadley wrote to me warning me about Bill, she also told me she had a son living out at Red Chute. I never knew what to do with that information, and then everyone started dying. I just assumed he’d passed too. I mean everyone had died. Absolutely everyone. Still, I decided to stop by on my way out of Louisiana, not really expecting anything. I don’t know what I was looking for. Just checking a box off a list before I could leave the state, I suppose. By that stage, I was sure the whole world was gone. The idea I was humanity’s lone survivor didn’t seem all that farfetched driving through the dead streets of Shreveport. And then I found him at the address she left me. 

“He was a wisp of a two-year-old boy then, soiled and dirty, but surviving somehow. His father was dead in the bedroom, the house was foul with rot and there he was just sittin’ on the kitchen floor eating a box of uncooked pasta, making a huge mess. He just looked at me with these enormous brown eyes and asked me if I was his momma.

“I picked the fuzzy visual of Hadley clear as day from his mind. He didn’t have many memories of Hadley, but I matched approximately. Blonde hair, blue eyes, similar smile. It just about broke me…” I took a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. “There’s nothing in this world I regret more than not checking on him sooner. I told him I wasn’t his momma, but that I would be from now on.” 

“Regret is a waste of emotion,” Eric said quietly. “You are an honorable woman, Sookie.” 

“I don’t know about that. But I’m trying my best to do right by him.” I brought Eric’s hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to the tips of his pale fingers. “I’ve been missing him like crazy.” 

“I’ve felt your longing, even when you were delirious and healing on the couch in my suite in Florida.” 

Emotion billowed through me like a great storm cloud heavy with rain. I was so grateful for the second chance Eric had given me, for the brief glimpse of joy he’d shown me the last few days. I wanted to stay with him longer. It was easy to imagine spending countless nights with him laying here as we were. But I was dreadfully homesick for Hunter. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

Eric pressed a kiss into my hair. “Sleep now.” 

“Wake me before you go,” I mumbled drowsily sometime after I finally let my eyes drift close. “I want to say goodbye before you leave.” 

* * *

There was no goodbye. I woke after dawn, the morning birdsong shaking me from my sleep like nature’s alarm clock. I stood up disoriented and pulled the chenille blanket around my shoulders. I sat down on the couch let myself cry for a minute. It was better this way, wasn’t it? Better to end on a sweet moment rather than drag it out with a teary goodbye. 

Something on the kitchen counter caught my eye. Propped against my water bottle was a small white card, folded in half. In front, sat the house keys, the ones I’d punched Barb with. I picked up the keys, rubbing the cool metal between my thumb and forefinger. They were clean of blood. I opened the card. 

Inside, written in a curly and sweeping hand, read: _So long and thanks for all the blood. – E_

I laughed shakily between the tears and I carefully folded the keys into the card. I let out a deep breath as I looked over the room for a final time and wiped off my cheeks. 

It was time to go home.


	14. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, I've now turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened and your tray tables are locked in their full upright position.

The directions Bec gave me to the camp were easy to follow. I drove slowly through leafy and overgrown suburbia to find that the group had camped, literally camped, in a large clearing just at the edge of town. They had pitched an array of tents and were positioned around a central point with a small campfire in the middle. A group of horses were tied to a series of large oaks some yards away. The group, now reduced from eight to seven, were up and about already by the time I arrived. The little girl came bounding up to me. 

“I’m Abby,” she said, grinning broadly at me. “And my bottom tooth is wobbly.” She opened her mouth and proudly demonstrated how wobbly her tooth was. 

“Well, would you look at that!” Her finger actually covered the tooth entirely, so I took her at her word. She slipped her hand into mine and I found myself smiling down at her, despite my mood. “I’m Sookie.” 

“Hi Sookie,” Abby said. She was in high spirits. John had let her stop at the toy shop on the way back to the camp the night before. The coveted pony toy was currently tightly stuffed under her other arm. I spotted Bec, she was by the campfire with her hands deep in a bucket of frothy water, washing dishes. She stood and walked over, wiping her hands off on a tea towel. 

“Fast recovery,” she said to my shoulder. I shrugged. It was tender, the feeling akin to a muscle stretched for the first time after never being used before. 

“Too bad they can’t replicate vampire blood like they did human blood,” I said. I noticed the rest of the group gathering a few paces behind where Bec was standing. They looked at me expectantly, a mix of hopeful, hesitant, and wary. 

“I’m sure it would’ve only been a matter of years had it not been for the great death,” Bec said, lifting up the sleeve of my t-shirt to examine the point of entry. “Well, I’ll be damned. Not a single mark.” She began feeling my nose, which also felt as good as new. 

“Was that big man a vampire? The one that came here last night?” Abby piped up.

“You mean Eric?” I shifted my head away from Bec to look at Abby, puzzled. Eric had been at the camp?

“You run along, Abby. Go and see if Johnny or Mabel will take you down to the creek,” Bec said in a tone that brokered no negotiation. 

Abby pouted and Bec ushered the reluctant girl away to John, who nodded solemnly towards me. His fear in me was gone, but the wariness was still there on some base level. _She must be a witch, ___he thought. _But a good one. That vampire of hers ain’t half bad either. ___

__“Eric came here?” I asked Bec. The rest of the group dispersed._ _

__“Yeah,” she said, slinging the tea towel over her shoulder. “He brought back Barb’s body when you were sleeping it off in the townhouse. Said he thought we might want to bury her. I think it was mostly a ruse to check out our intentions.”_ _

__I bit back a smile. “That sounds about right.”_ _

__“He’s a good man.”_ _

__“I don’t know about good, but he’s… honorable.” I thought back to the night before, how he used the same words to describe me. The descriptor fit him better._ _

__“So what did you want to talk about?” Bec asked._ _

__“Maybe we can all sit somewhere? Is that coffee I can smell?”_ _

__* * *_ _

__The drive back to River Rock was the liveliest since my whole cross-country ordeal had begun nine days earlier. Abby sang relentlessly in the back seat, and my shields were tested to their maximum capacity being surrounded by humans within such close confines. Just over a week away from home and I was out of the habit already._ _

__The car could only take so many passengers and supplies, so we traveled on route to South Carolina with John in the front seat, Abby in the back sandwiched between the gray-haired Mabel and Robby, the tall man whose leg Abby was hiding behind the day before. He stayed mostly silent, though his mind was running at a million miles an hour it seemed just as a default (from what I could tell)._ _

__Bec and the other two (the bald and portly Stephen who I’d disarmed yesterday, and Dan, a seasoned horse rider) stayed behind at the camp and were making their way over on horseback. We agreed on a route, with the plan being for me to drive back in two days’ time and check on their progress._ _

__It took slightly over four hours to get back to River Rock. It was an odd feeling traveling back through familiar roads, everything looked and felt the same but was different. Was that normal when you came back from a vacation or a trip out of town? Or was it only when you left because you were nearly dying?_ _

__Drizzle followed us for much of the drive back, but it cleared as we drove the over the hilly peak that bordered the town. Some folk stood on their front porches and watched us pass with a solemn wave, mostly I saw curtains twitch. The streets were virtually empty. River Rock had a population of just shy of two hundred, a fair proportion were kids. None of whom were riding their bikes on the street, or climbing on the playground._ _

__“Something’s wrong,” I muttered quietly to John, hoping not to alert Abby. He nodded and patted his rifle, which he had resting against his leg. It was reassuring._ _

__I gunned the car across to where Jessup and Donna were living. It was a white weatherboard ranch style home. The gardens were neatly mowed, Hunter’s bike was still leaning against the porch railing - but the house was empty; doors locked. My panic escalated. River Rock wasn’t a door locking kind of town._ _

__I drove straight for the community hall. There were multiple bikes parked outside, and several horses were tied up around the side of the building drinking from the trough. Word had traveled fast, or maybe they’d just heard my car coming because Jessup was already waiting out the front with Owen, the two men looking grim. I told the others to stay in the car and jumped out._ _

__Owen ran up to meet me and swept me into a hug._ _

__“You’re alive!” His arms surrounded me from all sides. “We were praying, but days had passed…”_ _

__“What’s going on?” I asked, gently pushing at his arm, disengaging from the embrace. “Why is there a town meeting? I brought some newcomers with me.” I could hear the din from behind the wooden doors of the hall. Owen’s thoughts were erratic, at first awash with relief at seeing me again and then swinging across wildly to fear and trepidation._ _

__Something had happened, I realized skimming across his mind. He was devastated, but whatever it was he couldn’t bear to think about._ _

__“C’mon Sook, come and sit for a spell. We need to talk.” Jessup stepped towards me, hands raised in supplication. His face was beaten up. His eye swollen, blood vessels burst._ _

__“What happened to you? Where’s Donna? Where’s Hunter? There was nobody at the house.”_ _

Owen wrung his hands and looked across to Jessup. _Should I tell her...? Or should Jess?_

“Where’s Hunter?” I repeated hoarsely. I turned back to Jessup, his snarly thoughts turning dark. I felt my knees weaken. 

___“No, no, no, no, no…” I shook my head desperately._ _ _

___“Sookie, you need to sit. Owen, go fetch her a glass of water.”_ _ _

___“No!” I shouted. I pushed past Owen and placed my hands either side of Jessup’s head, pressing them hard against the tight dark curls of his short afro, trying to latch onto his mental stream of consciousness. “Where is he?! I need to see! Tell me!”_ _ _

___Jessup’s face morphed with surprise. I’d never told anyone in town about my telepathy. Jessup and Donna suspected as much but this was as much confirmation as he’d ever had. His eyes turned steely with understanding and he cupped his dark hands over mine, doubling the connection again and his mind opened like a book._ _ _

___“Vampires came though, Sook,” he said softly. I saw it. Every horrid detail. Hunter wrenched from his bed in the night, Donna bleeding out on the floor, a young brunette vampire seeing to her grisly end. Blood everywhere. Hunter sobbing and crying out, Jessup being mauled at the neck by another vampire, left virtually incapacitated._ _ _

___A low, keening sound burst forth from my throat. He pulled me gently down to sit across from him on the steps of the hall. I pulled down the collar of Jessup’s shirt. There was a white bandage at his shoulder. I sucked in a breath. The bandage was huge. It wasn’t a bite underneath, it was a tear. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be true._ _ _

___“Two vampires passed through here a few days back,” he said. “An old calculating one with his child, some badly-turned sick looking fuck. They said they were travelers, looking for willing donors before moving on.”_ _ _

___“They killed Hunter? Where’s Hunter?” I wanted to shake him by the checkered collar of his stupid button-up; I needed answers, not the storybook version!_ _ _

___“They didn’t kill him, but they took him. Donna’s dead, Sookie. I was out for the evening, a town meeting to discuss the projected crops and yield for next season. I got back… They’d glamoured Donna to let them in. Cathy over the road heard her screams and came running to find me and when I got back to the house...” His voice broke._ _ _

___“I tried my best, Sook. It wasn’t enough. I don’t know where they went. Where they took him. They flew right outta here with Hunter and Joey Brown, that seventeen-year-old kid living next to Cathy.”_ _ _

___“How many nights ago?” I choked out._ _ _

___“Two nights ago. Today’s the first day I’ve been well enough to be useful. We’re getting a group together to ride and fan out searching for them. They’ve been heading out every day.”_ _ _

___“Oh my God. Oh my God.” I cupped my mouth. This was a horror movie. This couldn’t be real. My sweet boy. Jessup held me as I cried painfully, my heart feeling like it was ripping through my chest with every gasping sob._ _ _

___“Hush. Come on now,” he murmured, rubbing my back. “The whole town is here to help Hunter, Sook. We will do everything we can.”_ _ _

___“And what if he’s dead?”_ _ _

___Jessup was quiet for a long pause, perhaps deciding on a tactful way to answer._ _ _

___“Then we bring Hunter home and give him a proper, respectful burial,” said Owen. He set a glass of water down next to me. I looked up as Owen moved to stand opposite us. My head spun with the meaning of his words. Burial. Oh my God. Owen looked pained and rubbed the back of his hand self-consciously across the dark stubble growing on his cheeks before stuffing it deep into the front pocket of his Levis. I was sure the ground had just fallen clear from under me and that I was free-falling straight into nothing._ _ _

___“And we kill those vampire fuckers,” I choked out, slamming my fist down on the cement step. They killed Donna and if they’d killed Hunter too, I’d make sure they’d never live to see another undead night again._ _ _

___Jessup nodded back at me in cold determination, his eyes glowing yellow, the were in him stirring. “I’ll tear them to pieces myself.”_ _ _

___I wiped my eyes, my cries easing. I liked to believe I was a God-fearing woman – and perhaps I was most days of the week – but family was everything to me and nothing would stand in the way between me and my child. I didn’t care if that made me a terrible Christian. In fact, I didn’t care at all anymore if I was a terrible Christian, period. I was beginning to doubt if God was with me at all anymore these days, or with any of the folk left behind after the great death. He sure seemed to have flown the proverbial coop for the last two years._ _ _

_Flown. ___

____Something tugged at my consciousness. I frowned, following the train of thought. It was something that Jessup had said… About flying._ _ _ _

____“Did you say they flew out of here?” I asked Jessup suddenly._ _ _ _

____“Yes. They literally flew. The boys were under their arms.”_ _ _ _

____Eric’s words came back to me, playing back on a reel within my head. He’d said flying was an uncommon ability in vampires - one he had inherited from his maker._ _ _ _

____“Ocella,” I stated. “One of the vampires was Appius Livius Ocella.” I wasn’t sure I was saying the name right. Jessup’s responding snarl was my confirmation. I stood up._ _ _ _

____“Where’s the map?” I asked. “The one you’ve been marking off locations people have checked?”_ _ _ _

____Jessup nodded towards into the hall and Owen looked surprised, understandably since I’d pulled the image of the map right from his head. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail with the band from around my wrist. There were possibilities here. Trails to follow. A vampire lover who could lead me straight to my child._ _ _ _

____I pushed open the doors to the hall, the chatter inside quietened. I turned back to the men._ _ _ _

____“Come on, then,” I sniffed. “We have work to do if we’re gonna find them, and I think I have an ace up my sleeve.”_ _ _ _

____* * *_ _ _ _

____I opened the door to number 10 Hill Crescent with lead in my legs and whiskey burning my belly. I could feel Owen’s presence lingering further down the street in the idling car, wondering if he should have followed me in after all. I closed the door quietly behind me. My fingers trailed along the wall as I walked down the hall, over the rain coats, big and small, over the gray loose knit cardigan I kept there, over the small backpack Hunter wore when we went hiking._ _ _ _

____I dumped my bag on the couch next to the ugly crocheted afghan I’d brought with me from Gran’s farmhouse. I moved deeper into the house, down the dim corridor to Hunter’s room. The curtains were pulled wide open, afternoon sun peeking out between rain clouds. It felt falsely cheerful._ _ _ _

____The room was still tidy, but even in the week I’d been gone, it smelled musty and unused. It clawed at my composure. Before too long it would be like any other room in any other abandoned house in any other abandoned town._ _ _ _

____I lowered myself onto his bed. I’d let Hunter pick the quilt cover, a bright array of cartoon fire engines, police cars, and ambulances. He had a thing for anything with a siren, funny seeing how it wasn’t like you ever heard them anymore. There definitely wouldn’t be any helping him out right now._ _ _ _

____I picked up his pillow and breathed it in. I had failed him, hadn’t I? Promised to look after him, promised to be his mother. One dumb mistake, a stupid, rookie risk by climbing that damned rotten fence was all it took to threaten my health and safety and for him to lose his._ _ _ _

____I slept there on his bed and Jessup shook me roughly awake after nightfall. I gasped desperately when I woke, like the first lungful of air after plunging into icy waters._ _ _ _

____The lamp beside him was switched on, meaning it was sometime between 7 pm and 9 pm, the daily allotted time for power. It was all the hydro power station could manage staffed at quarter capacity. Jessup looked worse in the low light. The dark rings under his eyes were nearly black, and behind his eyes it was like there was a feral man caged, waiting to be let out._ _ _ _

____“The newcomers are settling in well,” he said gruffly. It was a better opening than ‘my wife is still murdered and your son still kidnapped’._ _ _ _

____I nodded and wiped the sleep from my eyes, sitting up. The whiskey I’d had back at the hall with Jessup and the others while we discussed what to do had left my mouth tacky and dry. I’d almost forgotten about John, Abby, and the rest of the newcomers since getting back. They were probably happily settling in somewhere in town. Surreal that what could be the best day for some could, at exactly the same moment, be the worst for others._ _ _ _

____“You get all the supplies?” I asked. He followed me into the kitchen and I switched on the light, pouring myself a glass of water from the faucet._ _ _ _

____“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded to a black duffel bag sitting beside the couch. “That big fella, Johnny, he insisted he come along too.”_ _ _ _

____I set the glass down, considering this. “Is that wise?”_ _ _ _

____“Someone’s gotta drive us back if we’re worse for wear. Owen and the big fella nearly scuffled over which of the two should ride along.” He cast me a knowing look. “But Johnny wouldn’t take no.”_ _ _ _

____“Alright,” I sighed. I didn’t have the time or mental resources for dealing with any torch Owen still carried for me. Not that I had any idea what John’s intent was either, though I knew it definitely wasn’t the same as Owen’s._ _ _ _

____Owen and I had begun tentative relationship not long after I arrived in South Carolina which was nearly eighteen months ago now. It was a weird situation, I wasn’t really sure what I was thinking. Owen was a good man, great with Hunter. Maybe a part of me was trying to create some normality for Hunter. Or maybe I was to trying to erase some of the pain I’d experienced back home in Louisiana by trying to make myself fall in love. It was wasted effort. Pre or post-apocalypse, I couldn’t have a relationship with a human male, regardless of how good or how sweet he was. Owen and I slept together twice, both times equally awkward and mostly unpleasant for me, before I conceded defeat and broke up with him._ _ _ _

“Let me change and then we can hit the road,” I said to Jessup. 

____After getting ready, Jessup and I found John sitting on the steps of my front porch waiting for us, his meaty arms resting across his knees. He had changed outfits too, dressed now in typical biker attire. Black tee, black jeans, leather vest with multiple patches hand embroidered across the lapels. He really was a walking stereotype, down to his bald head and gray bushy beard._ _ _ _

____“Why are you willing to do this?” I asked him._ _ _ _

____“You stuck your neck out for us. Your vampire too.” His gravelly voice bottomed out with emotion and he cleared his throat, his gray eyes communicating the gratitude his words couldn’t. I felt Jessup’s gaze on me, pulsing with curiosity. I ignored it. I wondered what John meant about Eric sticking his neck out. Maybe because he went out of his way to bring them Barb’s body for burial? I had seen that morning the wooden cross where the group had buried her under a tall oak.____

John continued, “If some sick dead fuck has your kid then it’s only right that I’m there to help you.” 

____We chased the moonlight out of River Rock and headed back along the mountainous road towards Tennessee. I had the back seat to myself and reclined flat against it, hugging my pack. My eyes were closed, my body relaxed as much as I could will it to be. I steeled myself and cast all thoughts of Hunter from my mind. Instead, I worked at a firm pace building up shields and blocking the world around me. My mental movements were quick and sure, like the little ants in my garden who consumed themselves wholly with each and every task they performed. Never pausing, never skipping a beat._ _ _ _

____Soon it was like I was alone within myself, holding only the barest awareness of the prickly upholstery under me, of the whirring of the road under the wheels, or of the rumbly sounds of conversation exchanged between John and Jessup. It was like the world around me was a soundtrack turned down so low it was almost mute._ _ _ _

____I explored within myself until I clasped what I was looking for. A bond. One I had brushed against once or twice in the preceding days for only a brief glimpse. My need, or maybe my method of approach, had made it easier to find the faint link forged with blood between Eric and I. I had it pinned now, though it was as slight as a whisper from my end. Still, I could feel it as if it were a real physical presence within me. A literal string. I focused on it and it pulsed in response. A sort of recognition. I wasn’t sure if that was Eric sensing me or if the bond was responding to my manipulations._ _ _ _

____I leaned against the sensation. My emotions began to crack, like a deep fissure spreading across the arid plain of tight control within me. Was Eric involved in Hunter’s disappearance? The thought devastated me. That I might have invited a devious man into my bed. Trusted a vampire who was working against me. That I had played a hand in the disappearance of my own son._ _ _ _

____But it didn’t seem likely, no matter how I turned it over in my head. I hadn’t even told Eric about Hunter’s existence until the night before. Eric didn't even know where I lived._ _ _ _

____Maybe Ocella had indeed been passing through, as he’d told the townsfolk, and was simply drawn to Hunter, or rather to Hunter’s portion of fairy otherness in the same way Eric was drawn to me lying on that cold marble floor of the mansion. There was no way to know. Eric and I had come so close to crossing paths before the modern world had ended. Maybe this was fate’s cruel way of throwing us together again and again._ _ _ _

____But I was one of the lucky ones. I was probably one of the only people alive who survived the great death with an actual family member by my side. I’d fight tooth and nail to get him back. I’d kill to get him back. Even if that meant killing Eric. I tugged hard on my end of the bond and I felt a strong ripple in response. Acknowledgement._ _ _ _

____Eric was listening._ _ _ _


	15. Safeguard

The miles passed by quickly. Eventually, we came across the camp where Bec and the others, Stephen and Dan, were bunkered down for the night. 

Bec met us at the car with a solar powered LED lantern in her hand, the lantern casting a bell shape of light around her onto the asphalt. She was surprised to see us, her face ruddy from a day spent in the sun and her eyes widening when John explained our reasons for back-tracking so soon. She forced a few first aid supplies into my hands and told me she would help tend to Hunter if he needed it when we brought him back. 

She believed I was a force to be reckoned with after seeing how Barb was brought down within minutes by my own hand, and she told me as much too. In her mind, she didn’t doubt I’d get Hunter back. It filled me with hope. No, that wasn’t quite the right feeling. It wasn’t hope, rather a fierce expectation that I would get him back. No hope involved. It was pure certainty. I had to believe it.

Hours passed on the road and we finally arrived back to the house and town where Eric and I had entangled and then parted ways. I didn’t know the town’s name until we passed the sign heading in. Two Forks, Tennessee. 

I let the men into the house. It was dark and eerie now, the faint smell of wood smoke lingering. Just a single evening ago it had felt loved and full of warmth. The fact I’d been lying here while Hunter was stolen away somewhere with unspeakably awful monsters sullied my memories almost entirely. I just wanted to curl into a ball on the couch and scream and cry. 

Jessup set his oil lantern on the mantel and turned to me. His mouth was pressed into an unhappy firm line. 

“Johnny,” he said. “Would you give Sookie and I moment.” 

“Sure thing, boss,” John said, lumbering out the door. 

I raised a brow watching his exit. Huh. John had said boss casually like a term of endearment, the kind you shared between friends or even acquaintances, but there was a deeper something to the way he spoke the word. A respect. How quickly alliances and hierarchies were formed in a lawless society. 

“What the actual fuck is going on right now, Sookie,” Jessup growled. “All I can smell here is you and a vampire, and blood and fucking. You told me you accompanied Eric Northman this far, not that you were screwing him on your entire trip up from Florida.” _Fangbanger_. His thought cut through crystal clear.

“Excuse me? You need to watch your language, Jessup. I don’t like what you’re insinuating about me. I don’t think it’s any of your business what happened here. It’s thanks to him that I’m alive and standing right in front of you. And it’s thanks to him that we have a shot at finding where Hunter and Joey might be.”

He scoffed. “Hadn’t occurred to you that Eric had something to do with it?” 

“Of course, it occurred to me,” I snapped. “But it’s impossible. Eric didn’t even know I had a son until after Hunter was already taken. He never asked me where I lived. Never pried into my life. He accompanied me only because his maker had called him. Because Ocella was traveling through the states for the first time in forever. I can't see how he could have anything to do with it.”

“Then how do you explain that _his_ maker grabbed _your_ son? There’s coincidences and then there’s coincidences.” His face was contorted with anger, his puffed eye and skewed nose making him look more strange than stern. Normally, he was quite a handsome man, in a Blair Underwood kind of way.

I crossed my arms and debated internally. How much should I share?

“It's a coincidence because we are different, Hunter and I,” I said. “Vampires can smell it. And I think you probably can too. They’re attracted to it.” 

He considered this, his nostrils flaring. “He does smell sweet like you," he said finally. “...Because he’s like you, isn’t he?” He tapped a finger against his forehead.

I nodded miserably and sunk onto the couch, pressing my balled fists against my eyes. His guess was close enough. Telepathy. What a family curse to have, even if it was a symptom of the underlying reason Hunter and I both survived the plague. Our damned fairy spark.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner,” I said. I’d been working with Hunter, showing him how to create his own shields, teaching him how to distinguish between thoughts and spoken word, impressing upon him the importance of never responding to people’s thoughts. But there was only so much you could teach a four-year-old. His childhood as a telepath came with an almighty steep learning curve.

“Well, he sure comes out with some odd stuff. Never thought much of it,” said Jessup. “I remember my own kids. They always said the darndest things, especially at that age.” 

It was rare to hear Jessup talk about his old life but I knew he’d been a father of three. Jessup’s thoughts turned bittersweet, I caught snatches of a fuzzy internal monologue about his old family and missed opportunities with Donna. He heaved a sigh and sat down beside me on the couch. He gave my knee a squeeze in solidarity. 

“So how’s this work?” he asked. 

I was grateful he decided to lay off me about Eric. It really wasn’t his business, even if his distrust and unease regarding vampires was warranted. 

“My telepathy or finding Eric and Ocella?” 

“As much as I’m curious about the first one, I think finding the vamps is our priority. You said you had a way of finding them.” 

“Like you warned me, Eric was able to track me through our shared link of blood... And if I focus hard enough, I can feel it.” I rubbed my chest bone with the heel of my palm. “I can feel that link. I guess my extra ability makes me more sensitive to it. I’m hoping with a little quiet, patience, and the map we brought, I can track him too. I can’t read vampire thoughts, but I can sense their mental presence if I’m close enough. My range isn’t that great though, so if I can track Eric through the blood tie then it should be enough to get close enough to pinpoint them exactly.”

“Then locate them and find their resting place in the daytime,” Jessup said, echoing my words from earlier in the day. It was the basic premise of my plan I'd shared back at the hall. He’d wondered about this when I'd first explained, and I was just grateful he’d simply taken me at my word. 

“We find Ocella and his misfit companion and stake them in daylight," I said. "Grab Hunter and Joey and go home.”

“Your vampire won’t like that.” 

“He’s not my vampire. And I’d say since his vampire daddy kidnapped my son the score would be even. Vampires seem to be all about favors and settling scores.” 

“Weres too,” he said darkly. He was ready and raring to avenge Donna. 

Jessup left me so I could have time to quietly commune with myself. I laid the map flat on the rug in front of the empty fire. I closed my eyes and retreated to the place behind the shields where the bond lay in wait. It made sense in my mind that Jessup, John, and I started here to try and scry for Eric’s location. The house was where we connected. Maybe the bond would respond to that.

When I emerged from the house some time later, I handed the map over to Jessup who was waiting in the drivers’ seat. I wasn’t as pleased as I’d hoped to be.

“I’m not sure,” I said doubtfully. Hard to be sure of a fuzzy feeling. “I think this way.” I’d marked out a path on the map, north-east towards North Carolina. “It should get clearer the closer we get.”

Or so I hoped.

* * *

Dawn crept over the countryside, rolling over the dew-covered hills turning them shades of pink and yellow. Between the pastures, speckled patches of fall colored forest spread out broadly. The change of season was encroaching faster here in North Carolina than in its southern counterpart. 

Looking down the valley, I was surprised to see there was still plenty of livestock. Tiny white and black figures, cows and sheep hard at work even at this early hour, chewing the cud. They seemed to be surviving well without the aid of humans and against predators. Wolves and coyotes surely held all the cards in the pecking order these days. Their numbers must be abundant now, though perhaps not in this area. 

I heard the farmhouse door clatter and John came to my side. He offered me a cup of tea, warm, sweet, and milky; and an apple muffin from our rations. I smiled gratefully at him, accepting. We had stopped to refuel. We needed sleep anyhow, and Jessup was concerned about over-working the car.

“All the vampires are asleep now,” I said, once I gave John a good minute to enjoy the view.

“Must be a relief,” John said. 

“Yes. But it kills me how alone Hunter must feel.” 

“How old is he?” 

“Four.” I smiled, nibbling at the edge of the muffin. “He’s my family, you know? From before the plague.” 

John looked surprised. Many survivors became inadvertent parents during the great death. Children who weren’t struck down were all inevitably orphaned. Those that were found or survived long enough to meet others were taken under the wings of older survivors, a natural sort of adoption process. I might have been the only adopted parent on earth with a child I was actually related to. 

“He’s my cousin’s son. He’s a bright kid, full of beans. But I think they all are at this age.” 

“He’s lucky you’re there for him.” John’s thoughts turned contemplative. He was thinking about his old biker club, the things they’d do for the kids in Phoenix, where he’d lived.

“You’ve done this type of thing before, haven’t you?” I said carefully. “Helped out kids in need.”

“It was my club - the Avenging Angels, we had a community program. Helping victims of child abuse…It wasn’t about scaring the abusers, no violence or any sort like that. The aim was to support the kids.” He shrugged unassumingly and swished the last of his tea around in his mug. “We’d be there on call. Escort them to court, sit in if they had to testify against their abuser, escort them to school, heck, even took a few phone calls in the middle of the night from one little girl who had recurring nightmares. It was about makin’ them feel safe again.” 

I hugged John suddenly, my tea sloshing over the rim. Tears welled over and I pressed my face against his leather vest. He was like a giant marshmallow, big and burly on the outside but soft and gooey on the inside. 

He patted my back awkwardly. 

“There ain’t many people as good as you, John.” I said, and stepped back, wiping off the drops of tea from his vest, apologetically. 

“Don’t know about that, girly,” he gruffed. 

“Oh, believe me, I know.” I had front row seats into the world of how screwed up most people were. Even the most inane and normal looking person could be secretly rotten to the core. But John? He was good all the way through. 

After he went back in, I finished my tea and wandered down to the back field to attend to my human needs in the long grass away from the house. I was beyond exhausted. I trudged in through the back door, my plan being to wash up then locate the nearest cushioned surface to pass out. John said he’d wake Jessup and I in a couple hours and we could continue on. 

In the kitchen, I stood over the large cast iron sink and poured bottled water onto my hands, washing them. The sink was an almost identical match to the one in Gran’s kitchen. Deep like a trough, the years of use visible in the black marks and faint gouges marring the cream enamel finish. I had a warm memory of standing beside Gran as a young child, looking at her smooth gnarled hands as she helped me clean biscuit dough from between my fingers. 

_Pop._

I dropped the bottle of water into the sink and yelped. A beautiful woman, with modelesque stature, long brown hair and wide delicate eyes, had popped into existence right outside the kitchen window. She stood beaming at me, dressed in a long shimmery red gown, the fabric was filmy and caught the early sunlight. She gestured for me to come outside, a crumpled map clutched tightly in one hand. 

I opened the back door quietly and walked around to meet her. I shielded my eyes against the morning sun to get a better look at her. The pointy tips of her ears poked out from behind her silken hair. 

“Sookie!” She stepped forward, arm outstretched but I took a good step back. She had the kind of smile that warmed you to your toes, the type that made you want to smile back. With my current circumstances considered, I knew it was the completely wrong response.

“Who are you?” She was clearly a fairy, and I was done – _just done_ – with surprises. 

“Claudine. It’s so good to finally meet you.” Her voice was as smooth and sweet as caramel.

“I can’t say I know who you are.” I wiped my wet hands against the sides of my jeans rather than accept her greeting. Gran would tan my hide for my lack of grace and manners, but sue me, my son was kidnapped and I was running on roughly two hours sleep out of the last twenty-four. 

“I’m your fairy godmother.” She bounced on her toes as she spoke. 

“Come again?” I crossed my arms and gave her a look. I was not in any mood for games or fairy tricks. 

“Full disclosure..? We’re actually family. I’m your cousin. Niall is my grandfather too.” Alright, well that made a lick more sense. 

“Okay. Why are you here? This really isn’t the best time for a family reunion.” 

“I’m here because I’m assigned to protect you. Your fairy godmother.” 

“Protect me?” I scoffed. “Well, I have to say you’re doing a lousy job. You know I nearly died earlier this week? Twice? And now…” My mouth ran dry. And now I was driving straight towards more danger. 

Her smile faltered. She extended her hand for me to take and said, “Come and sit with me. I’m here now and I think you’ll like the help I can offer.” 

I ignored her hand, but we settled beside one another on a paint peeled garden bench under the great oak out back. I felt for the minds inside the farmhouse. Jessup was sleeping deeply and John was in the next room to him dozing. 

“I thought all the portals were closed. Niall told me they were sealing the portals off for good. Or at least indefinitely,” I started. I really never expected to see another full-blooded fairy for as long as I lived.

“Niall is a sentimental old bat. He may have intended to close the portals but…” She shrugged and shot me a helpless smile.

“But he left his foot in the proverbial door,” I finished. 

“Right! Exactly.” There was that beaming smile again. “How did you know? It was actually the foot of a slain water fae, that way no one would suspect Niall.” 

I didn’t even know how to respond to that. I settled for tiredly rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand. “So you said you were able to help? I assume that means you know about Hunter.”

She patted my knee sympathetically. “Yes, what an awful situation. Niall came to find me as soon as he discovered what happened. He’s really quite distressed.”

“So, he left the door open a crack to... what? Check on me? But in all that time he never made himself known?” Couldn’t he have helped me when I hurt my leg?

“Time moves differently between realms, Sookie. In the time that has passed between the human plague and now, we have only experienced weeks of bloody war amongst our peoples,” she paused to let that revelation sink in, before continuing, “I’ve been assigned as your guardian since before the plague wiped out the humans… And by the time I had a chance to help you, all fairies were ordered from this realm and the portals sealed shut. Niall told me he offered to bring you to Faery when he sealed them and that my duties were complete regardless of your answer. I didn’t know, or even suppose, he was still keeping an eye on you.” 

I nodded and gestured with my hand to hurry her along. I didn’t care about that now. I cared about how I could help Hunter. ASAP. 

“Niall told you about Fintan and Adele?” she ventured gently. 

“Yes.” 

There was a time where that was a bitter fact, but the passage of time and an apocalypse had softened me onto the idea that Gran had a love affair that resulted in her children. It seemed almost romantic, in a way. It was a side I could never have guessed in her, a side that was wildly contradictory to her strong sense of morality. She had still been a devoted wife to Grandpa Mitchell and mother not only not to Daddy and Aunt Linda but also to Jason and I. I liked the thought of her falling hopelessly in love being swept off her feet, even if she couldn't shirk her wifely duties. 

“Did Adele ever mention anything about being given a gift, or ever show you a trinket? Almost like a pocket mirror?” 

I struggled to think back. It was so long ago. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“Fintan gave her a love gift. It’s called a cluviel dor. These are rare, difficult to forge, and very special. Your grandmother was extremely lucky to have had it given to her.” 

“A cluviel dor.” I said, trying out the foreign word. “I don’t understand. So, Fintan gave her a pocket mirror?” 

“No. The cluviel dor contains something very special. A wish.” 

I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“Not at all. Hers was never used. I could sense it when I exited the portal near your old home in Bon Temps. It’s somewhere inside that house. The wish is still intact.” 

I felt my heart stutter and miss a beat. 

“What are you saying…” 

She clasped my hands and drew them into her lap, I pulled them away again. Niall was also as touchy-feely as this every time I met him, maybe it was a fairy thing. It definitely wasn’t a Sookie thing.

“Sookie, I can’t pop you to Hunter. It took me long enough to find you here. But I can take you back to your old home and we can find the cluviel dor together.”

“Then I can wish Hunter back to my side?” 

Her forehead pinched into a frown, tiny creases appearing at her brow. “You could. But you must word the wish carefully. Very carefully.” 

“So it’s tricky with words the same way you all are?” Of course it was. This was a fairy token. Nothing would ever be easy about it. “Like how I can’t thank y'all for anything, or how y'all can’t lie but can still lead me down the garden path into thinking something that’s not true.” 

The delicate creases deepened. It seemed she didn’t like the aspersions I was casting on her race. My part-race. I didn’t care. The detest I harbored for my fairy brethren was well founded, in my opinion. More than well-founded. The human race had only them to blame. 

“Not exactly, but consider it this way. What if you called Hunter to your side and he was gravely injured? Or worse? Your wish has been used and there would be no way to help him. What if you wished yourself to be close to him, only to find yourself teleported somewhere and trapped, within the grasp of vampires.”

“Okay. Let’s say I find him. And he’s gravely injured… or worse. Would I be able to use it then? Heal him?” 

“Yes.”

“Why can’t I wish him safely to my side? Wish him into full health beside me?” 

“You could do that, but then you are introducing unknown variables. I caution you to keep your wish as simple and plainly worded as you can. There is more risk with a complex wish. Imagine wishing for his health only to find Hunter is brought to your side intact but made a vampire.” 

“Okay,” I nodded slowly, “No complicated wishes.” 

A tickle of excitement bounced to life deep inside my belly. I couldn’t get everything I wanted, but the cluviel dor could act as a life insurance policy for Hunter. A safeguard, of sorts.

“Any side effects?” I asked. “Terms and conditions? Fine print I should know about?” 

“It’s good only for one use. And only intended to be used on someone you love.”

“So no world peace, then?” 

“I’m not sure if Earth is in need of that any longer,” she said softly. Her words brushed against a very raw nerve.

“And I don’t believe that sort of thing is in good taste for a fairy to comment on.” 

She looked suitably chagrined. “Sookie… I didn’t mean to upset you. You know your grandfather, none of our clan had anything to do with the plague. It was Breandan, his faction within the water fae.” 

“I know,” I sighed. “Though I’d like to think I’d be a little more trusting of fairies if my introduction to you all hadn’t been so fraught with death and destruction.” 

“Well, then. Why don’t we see if I can turn some of that distrust around?” She beamed again, snapping back to her warm demeanor like a bouncy ball springing off a hardwood floor. This time when she offered her hand to me I took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You rock my socks if you picked up the Veronica Mars reference. Also the earlier Hitchhiker's Guide references. 
> 
> Sorry about the lack of Vikings in this chapter and the last. We won't see him yet, not for a few more hundred miles. To tide you over, I'm working my butt off to finish editing the next chapter and get that up for you.


	16. Desperation

I warmed to Claudine as the morning went on. The two of us searched side by side inside my ancestral farmhouse. It was surreal to be back home. Good ol' Bon Temps, Louisiana, home of the Bon Temps Hawks (Go Hawks!), population 0. 

Claudine revealed she was a telepath like me and, perhaps unlike me, was full of endless positivity. While I kept my shields unnaturally high to prevent leakage, being around her was exactly what I needed. I was scared I was wasting my time. Every moment was precious and there was no refund available on that time spent. I needed to funnel every resource, thought, and action into finding and helping Hunter. The need to see Hunter, to hold him in my arms was clawing at me from within, becoming more desperate, more vital, with every moment. Her positivity buoyed me, though. It gave me the motivation to keep moving.

I’d left a note for the men before we popped out of North Carolina, telling them to meet me in a small town further north from where they were. It was roughly the direction we had been heading last night. Claudine’s idea. I didn’t leave much of an explanation as to my disappearance, but I hoped Jessup would smell the scents around the farmhouse and put two and two together. I simply wrote I was following a lead and would catch up with them in the afternoon. 

I asked Claudine why she didn't just find the cluviel dor herself first before coming to me, but she'd simply smiled and gave me a firm shake of the head. It wasn't hers to look for, she told me. I was the rightful owner and as my guardian, it was her role to assist me. Luckily for me and Claudine, it didn’t take much time to find what we were looking for. I decided to begin our search in the attic and work our way down. I knew Gran had stored some sentimental items up there and I had also gone through most of the rest of the house before leaving for good two years earlier. 

I was certain I hadn’t come across the green and gold trinket Claudine had described for me. We worked at high speed moving through every box, nook, and cranny searching for the treasure.

But when I did find the coveted trinket, it was completely by accident, tucked inside a secret drawer within an old writing desk. The desk was enormous, an old mahogany heirloom passed down from Gran’s side. I was feeling under the desk for a good handhold in order to shift it out of the way when my fingers brushed across the cool metal of the lock on a secret drawer. I got down on my hands and knees to inspect it. 

The lock was an easy pick, no more than a wiggle with the end of a bobby pin was required. Easy peasy. Inside the drawer sat a small crushed velvet drawstring bag, and inside that, a palm-sized gold and pale green trinket with a letter, my name scrawled on the envelope in Gran’s familiar hand. 

With the trinket in one hand, I quickly scanned the accompanying letter. It offered little by the way of revelations, it was just Gran explaining my fairy heritage and the significance of the gift. It wasn’t new information, though it was interesting to read Gran’s take on it. I wondered why if it was intended for me she still chose to squirrel the object away. Maybe the right time to give it to me just hadn't happened. Her life was cut unexpectedly short. 

Claudine squealed when she saw what I was holding and immediately pulled me up to my feet. I stuffed the letter in my back pocket to pore over later, and we danced the do-si-do, laughing together around the dusty attic. 

The sun was high in the sky when Claudine popped me to a small town named Salisbury, North Carolina. She used the crumpled map she’d been holding when I first saw her to pinpoint the location and get me exactly there. She told me it was easiest if she’d already visited the place in question, but a map would do just as well. 

It was a bizarre feeling, popping. Like a giant vacuum sucking your body inside out and back again in the breadth of a millisecond. Sickening, mostly. But I was thankful to leave the hot and dusty attic behind. In different circumstances, I would have loved to be back at my old home, poring over old nostalgic items, family photos I thought I’d never see again, Jason’s old football trophies, my old yearbooks and report cards; mementos of a different life. But right now all I needed was a good meal, a good wash, and to get my ass moving somewhere north-east. 

The bond was harder to track during daylight hours, the connection dulling, but after focusing on it I could sense the change in distance between Eric and I with my sudden jump in location. I was sure now we were getting closer. 

Claudine swept me into a heartwarming hug as she said goodbye. She pressed a kiss to my hair and promised to check in on me the following day. She couldn’t help out with anything vampire related due to the catnip nature of fairy scent (or vamp-nip, as she’d joked) but she promised to help out any way she could through daylight hours. She told me she couldn’t wait to meet Hunter. She popped out of existence and I was alone again.

Like Jacksonville, I heard the car long before I saw it. I was waiting by the side of the highway into Salisbury when they reached me. I felt John and Jessup’s relief before I even registered their matching expressions. I climbed into the back seat and wound the window down. I felt disgusting, the dust and sweat from hunting in the attic sat on me like a thick layer of grime. 

“How?” John asked, twisting in his seat. _She must be magic… I knew it. How else could she beat us here?_

“I’m more normal than you think, Johnny.” I saw Jessup’s nostrils flare in the rear vision mirror. “As for my distant relatives, though-” 

“You follow up on that lead?” Jessup cut in, I suppose he wasn’t too keen for me to share my family history. He was dressed in a white and blue button up flannel, sleeves rolled to the elbows. It made for a handsome look. I hadn’t seen the shirt in his pack the day before, maybe he’d found it at the house we’d stay at last night.

“Sure did,” I answered. 

I still held the cluviel dor in my hand. I stroked its pearly green surface like I would a sleeping kitten. It was a beauty, flawlessly polished with finely crafted gold trim around the edges. The object was warm and swirling with life. It made me feel good, the way Niall's hugs or Claudine’s infectious nature did, but this was at a much greater magnitude. 

“I think I found Hunter a get out of jail free card,” I murmured. 

The afternoon was slow going. I was tired, my body clock running at half past completely empty. We stopped frequently when I lost track of the bond or simply couldn’t get a grasp of the right direction. We backtracked more than once. 

As evening approached, we heated some soup by the side of the road, a mix of sorrel and barley with homemade chicken broth, and broke bread over a small campfire. I barely tasted my meal. I didn’t participate in the meaningless conversation the men exchanged in. They were trying to keep the tone light, discussing football. Johnny was excited to learn River Rock had two teams that competed against one another for pleasure.

But sunset had distracted me. The bond, when I found it once more, was thrumming softly; alive yet again. Vampires were awake for the night. It was a hard fact to stomach. What was Hunter doing right now? What was Ocella doing? I couldn’t sit still a moment longer. I swallowed the last of my soup and stood up, shaking the tingles of anxiety from my hands. 

“You alright, Sook?” Jessup asked. 

“Walk,” I said distractedly. “Just need to walk for a bit.” 

I wandered away from the pair, the cluviel dor warm and heavy like a stone in my pocket. I could make that wish so easily and it would all be over. I could pray for the best. There would be no facing down vampires, no risking of life or limb, no more wasted minutes. Hunter could be beside me in seconds. 

I sighed. I couldn’t. I couldn’t conscionably do it. One part of me was frantic to use the trinket and simply get him back; the other half was screaming caution – warning me that despite any way Hunter may be suffering right now, it still wasn’t worth risking any cruel twist of fate the cluviel dor could inflict. 

I stuck to the road, keeping a mental track of the men so I wouldn’t wander outside my scope and get lost. I was thankful the early evening cloud cover was thick, it trapped the afternoon heat and prevented any chill from settling in the breeze which was getting stronger as the day wore on. The last of summer was being squeezed out like toothpaste from the tube. 

I walked only for ten minutes through some overgrown university grounds before doubling back. I was nearly back to the men when I felt something approaching fast along the road, almost too fast to register. A vampire void. 

“Jessup! Vampire!” I screamed, breaking into a run. Jessup jumped to his feet and shifted, his body transforming into an enormous salt and pepper colored wolf, his clothing falling around him. I’d never seen a were shift before. It was magnificent; fluid and seamless, although the sound was akin to something gloopy. Jessup snarled, leaping towards the void that was rapidly approaching me from behind me. John stumbled over himself getting up from the campfire and threw me his rifle before launching himself into the car for the weapons bag. 

I caught the rifle, but it was too late - the vampire was on me and Jessup on the vampire. I landed heavily to the ground, dropping the weapon in the process, bruising my hip and rattling my brain. I let out a cry of rage. What was with me and getting hurt these days!?

I grabbed the vampire’s clothes, trying to pull the it off me. Jessup snarled and snapped, but the vampire threw him off with ease, skidding Jessup across the pavement half a dozen feet away. I fought harder, rolling under my attacker and trying to shuck the vampire’s slight frame up and over me. It was useless. This was it, fangs were going to sink in at any second. I drew my knees up, trying to kick at its stomach like an angry cat.

“Fuck a zombie, now my clothes stink of dog.” 

I froze. I knew that voice. 

“Pam?” 

She was busy nuzzling my neck and purring. “Oh, Sookie. But _you_? You smell delicious. Incredible. I followed your scent on the breeze. Have you always smelled this good?” 

“Get off me. Get off!” I pushed her away, I’d like to say it was my sheer strength, but really it was only because she let me. Pam sat back on her haunches, still trapping my legs and licked her lips. Jessup was growling and gearing up to jump on her again, but I called to him to stop. John stood at the car, stake in one hand, my revolver loaded with silver hollow points in the other. 

I panted hard, lying flat on my back and staring at the sky. Pam moved forward, obscuring my vision, her hands and knees straddling me. Her fangs were down, pupils dilated.

“No biting!” I warned. I knew that look.

Her top lip curled up revealing her fangs in their full glory. She smiled at me scarily. I half expected her to salivate onto me. She looked hungry. 

“I won’t bite; Eric will flay me. But my, my, my… I finally see the appeal.”

“You won’t see the appeal if you keep it up. Get off me.” I poked a twig into her stomach. I knew it was a weak threat, but a girl can only work with what she’s got. She let out a peal of laughter and leaped to her feet, offering me her hand. I ignored it and got to my feet on my own. 

“Why are you here? _How_ are you here?” I asked.

“Sookie, you need to bathe,” Jessup called out. He had transformed back into human form. And he was naked. Very naked. My eyes widened, but I managed to keep them north of the border. Don’t look down, Sook, don’t look down. The meaning of his words sunk in a second later. 

“Excuse me?” My voice sounded a little shrill. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I couldn’t stink that badly that it warranted him yelling it at me. Pam seemed positively giddy. Her eyes were still stuck on me and she was inhaling great lungfuls of air, leaning closely to me. I stepped back. Oh, shit.

“You smell like fairy,” Jessup called. “You’re walking vampire bait. Go and wash up.” 

My jaw flapped in the breeze. What was happening right now? 

“Fairy?” John said, finally remembering he had a voice. “She smells like a fairy?” 

“Not now, Johnny,” Jessup and I said in unison. 

“Sookie,” Pam crooned, tracing a finger down the front of my shirt and between my breasts. She stepped uncomfortably close. “Why do you smell so tempting? Like sugar and spice and all things nice?”

“Stay back, Pam.” I pressed her shoulders gently away from me. It was futile, she was practically climbing on me. “I had a visitor today,” I eventually relented. 

As far as fairy godmothers went, Claudine was as worthless as teats on a bull. How could she not remind me to wash her scent off me? We were distracted, sure, and I should have known better... Urgh. I untangled myself and walked woodenly to the car to grab my things. A wash in a freezing cold river suddenly sounded extremely appealing. Maybe I could toss Pam in afterwards? 

I tried to picture the town as I’d seen it on Claudine’s map, wondering if there was a river or body of water nearby. When I turned around Pam was leading a dazed looking Jessup over to Johnny, who was standing there looking white a ghost, with his back pressed up against the door of the car. For all his menacing looks, Johnny really didn’t hold up to snuff. 

“What are you doing?” I shouldered my pack. It looked like she was-

“Glamouring them. They can’t come with us.” 

“You can’t do that. Can weres even be glamoured?” I finally noticed her attire. She was dressed in a dusky rose blouse which was tucked into neatly pressed khakis. She was barefoot, her hair pulled into a ballet-style bun with pearl earrings. On her back was an enormous backpack, the kind backpackers used to take overseas. It was like a New York socialite had decided to slum it. “What are you even wearing?” 

“Running gear. Now stop distracting me, sugar lips.” She shot a seductive smile over her shoulder before turning back to the men, both of them in her thrall. “You will leave now. Sookie will meet you mid-morning in Fayetteville, outside the Cape Fear botanical gardens car park. Go makes yourselves busy.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” John said, his voice even and devoid of emotion. His expression was completely blank. Glamouring was spooky. I probed his mind. Swiss cheese.

“Cape Fear botanical garden, car park,” Jessup repeated. 

She moved John around to face her better and ordered him to kneel. The petite blonde fed quickly from him. I felt like telling her to stop, but with the way she was looking at me, maybe this was safest. Watching her feed made me feel gross, though, it was nothing at all like what Eric had done with me. I averted my eyes but I could still feel hers burning into me. Even before I had become intimate with Eric, feeding him was an intimate act. This looked like the vampire equivalent of fast food; quick and cheap. 

“Now go,” she said when she finished. She clapped her hands together in two sharp raps, like a hard ass soccer mom ordering her kids around. The men, completely ignoring me, began packing up the camp. 

“What the hell is going on, Pam?"

"Don't worry about the blood-bag and dog," she said airily. "The big one won't remember he was glamoured and the dog won't realize it until tomorrow." 

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Are you here to kill me?” 

Was she friend or foe? I figured I was SOL at this point if she was foe. Diminutive female vampire clearly trumped werewolf, part-fairy telepath, and biker human combined. But my gut feeling told me she was friendly, or neutral at least. Eric was good to me. And she seemed obedient to Eric. Surely that meant something. 

Was the Cape Fear gardens where Ocella and Hunter were bunkered out? Was she going to take me there to help me get Hunter back?

My thoughts were interrupted by a jolt and the wind blasting my face. My eyes stung and watered in the force of the rush. The sudden movement stopped as abruptly as it begun and Pam let me go. Did we just fly? I didn’t have time to think, I stumbled to a bush and the sorrel soup came up in two great burning astringent heaves. 

“Did we just fly?” I wiped my mouth and spat into the bush. Vomit had splattered onto my shirt. Another outfit ruined. 

“I can’t fly,” Pam said, the corner of her lips turning down sourly. I could barely see her in the near complete darkness, but the little I could spoke to Eric’s blood still working through my system. She was standing far back from me. I unhooked the lantern off the side of my backpack and switched it on. We were beside a slow running creek. The water looked clear but I leaned over, shining the light onto it to check it more closely. 

“It’s clean. I can smell its purity,” she stated. I nodded and set the lantern and my bag down. “Tell me why you smell like fairy, Sookie. I’m dying to know.” She laughed at her own little joke. I scowled at her. “Would a fairy visitor have anything to do with why your natural scent is so tantalizing?” 

“I’m sure you can work it out, Pam,” I grumbled. I stripped down to my undergarments and waded into the creek, being careful not to slip over the mossy river stones. She’d seen me naked already back in Florida, so I could hardly be ashamed of showing her my bra and underpants. 

The creek was only ankle deep, but enough to make do. I sat down in the icy waters with a little yip and began splashing water over me, scrubbing myself all over with my fist and rinsing out my mouth with handfuls of the cold stuff. 

“Have you seen Hunter?” I asked, after dumping handfuls of water into my hair. I couldn’t bear her hungry silence anymore. I was the one really dying to know. 

“No. Who’s Hunter?” 

My stomach plummeted. “Have you seen Eric? Ocella?” I got out the creek then, slipping and nearly falling flat over a moss covered rock. She watched me flail, unimpressed. I managed to get back to my feet as gracefully as a drunk elephant and I retrieved the clean change of clothes in my backpack.

“Not yet. You’re following Eric, accompanied by a were and a leviathan of a man. Clearly, you aren’t chasing him across the country for a social call. And after the last week I've endured of involuntarily and vicariously living through my master, I believe it’s time I’m owed an explanation.” She was in my face again, fangs bared, fingers around my throat, tight but not painfully so. I squeaked in fright. 

Living vicariously? It triggered the memory with Eric and how he watched me eat oranges. The shoe dropped. 

“You’ve been feeling Eric through the bond?”

“Yes, and he was happy.” Pam said it like she’d swallowed a mouthful of sour milk. She dropped my neck and stepped back, smoothing her blouse. “Then he was maudlin. Even worse - like a mopey dog. I knew he wasn’t pleased to be called to his maker’s side, but two nights ago it changed suddenly. Then he closed our bond. I can sense him but he is cut off in most other ways.” 

I had paused midway through pulling up my jeans. “What do you mean, it changed? The bond changed? What did you sense?” 

“Something akin to distress and anger. Intense anger.” 

My fingers trembled and I fumbled uselessly trying to do up the top button of my clean jeans. Pam was in front of me and pushed my hands aside, completing the task for me. God, what had Eric found when he met Ocella? I felt like my breath was stolen from me. When she let go I backed up against a tree to lean heavily against it. 

“Eric ordered me to remain at Jupiter Island and not follow him when he first left to find you. But he didn’t command me." She smiled in a sly sort of way. “ Foolish. And both he and I know I wasn't turned because I followed rules. I helped myself to the case of Tru Blood you brought with you and ran. I found where they are located, but sensed you were close - thanks to all the blood you two have clearly been swapping. I decided to intervene on my maker’s behalf before you both met the true death.” 

I slunk down against the trunk and sat in the dirt. I remembered back to when Eric was describing Ocella to me. Something about him being an exceptional vampire with a taste for cruelty. I raked my hands through my hair, drawing a ragged breath.

“Now tell me who Hunter is.” There was nothing gentle in her tone. This was an interrogation, the ‘or else’ was just implied. 

“My son,” I said, looking back up at her. “Eric and I parted ways in Tennessee; he was close enough to fly to his maker and I drove home. I got back to find Ocella and some other vampire had razed my town and kidnapped my son as well as another citizen in the process. A teen boy.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Why your son? How does Ocella even know of you?” 

“Hunter is my flesh and blood. I guess he smells good like me.” I spat the words bitterly. “I can’t decide if it’s the world’s shittiest coincidence, or maybe God playing a joke at our expense. I don’t know.” 

I got back up and pulled on my coat. I balled up the soiled clothes inside my pack, pocketing the cluviel dor again in the process. I put the pack back on. “I need to find Ocella and get Hunter back.” I looked at her and for a long moment, we just stared. 

“You won’t be able to do that. Do you know how old Ocella is? If Ocella wants your child, he won’t let him go.” 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if he is as old as the hills. I don’t give a rat’s ass if he doesn’t want to let him go. Hunter is my son and I am taking him home.” 

“You must be truly stupid or in deep, deep denial if you think it will be that easy. Ocella is cruel and vindictive. Don’t let lover-boy Eric fool you about the true nature of a vampires, Sookie. We are born to kill. We revel in blood. We live for death and destruction,” she hissed, her words forming harshly around her fangs. She gripped my arms, squeezing painfully tight. “Ocella will snatch you before you have a chance to go through with any half-hatched escape plan. He will make you watch as he kills your son, piece by piece, and then force you to keep watching as he gluts himself on the blood, just for the fun of it. If he suspects Eric of double-crossing him, of becoming too human, then he’ll do the same to you too just for his benefit.” 

And just like that, I slipped into Pam’s mind. I gasped. It was cold and whirling; fast, like a river rushing with winter melt. Her mind was almost too fast to catch a full thought in its entirety. 

“Eric suffered for hundreds of years at the hands of his maker’s cruelty and proclivities,” she continued. “Ocella is honorable in the vampire sense, but make no mistake, he is devoid of any shred of humanity. 2000 years as a vampire has bred all useless traits from him. You cannot best him.” 

I did catch enough from her mind, though - enough to understand exactly how Eric was treated by Ocella. Her mind closed to me like a book snapping shut and my vision sharpened back into focus. Pam’s face was rigid in a mask of righteous anger. I felt sick, reflux burned the back of my throat.

“I will kill him.” The declaration burst from me. I sounded feral. “I will find him during his day rest – I’ll sense him with my mind – and I’ll kill him.” 

I felt something fall away from within me. Something deep and essential. The last piece of armor that bound my old-world morality to my post-apocalypse survival instincts. I had killed someone not even two days ago, and now here I was planning premeditated murder. And I didn’t care. Not even a little. 

Sure, Jessup and I had discussed offing Ocella. It was a heat of the moment statement; I wasn’t sure if I had really meant it then. Or maybe I did, but simply as a means to an end. I had to kill Ocella in order to get my son back. But now? Now I _wanted_ to kill him. I wanted to kill him with every last atom and molecule of my being. I wanted him dead.

I knew the shadows of guilt from murdering Barb would forever follow me. Somehow I would have to live with that. But Ocella wasn’t human. He was the furthest thing from human. There was nothing to be sorry for here. I wouldn’t be sorry. That might make me an awful person, but I found I didn’t care anymore. Part of me hated that I could freely admit to that. But I’d changed. 

Pam grinned darkly at me. “I knew there was a reason you were my favorite breather.”


	17. Headliner

Let me tell you, traveling the Pamela Express is neither fun nor comfortable. Pam told me while she was yet to learn to fly (she held hope she might acquire the skill with age) she had a talent for running. She threw me over her shoulder and we took off like a bullet train. She handled me as if I weighed as light as a feather pillow. Being carried like that by a woman of smaller size and stature than me was a... unique experience. 

We stopped three times. Motion sickness. I had to whack Pam violently on the back to get her to slow down so I could climb off of her shoulder and retch in the bushes. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was motion sickness or nerves. Maybe both. 

The third time she told me we would walk now; no more running. Thank the Lord. She waited patiently while I brushed my teeth on the side of the road, rinsing my mouth thoroughly. I didn't think I'd ever be able to stomach sorrel soup again. Pam informed me that we were now within walking distance of Hunter and the vampires, though it was still some hours’ away. She instructed me to wait out of range and out of sight until dawn before moving close to the gardens in Fayetteville where Ocella and the others were holed up. I couldn’t wait, though. Dawn felt too far away to get confirmation on Hunter’s well-being. 

“Please,” I begged her, clasping my hands around her slender wrists. She was so petite, it was like the fine bones of a hummingbird encased under her cool skin. “Let me get closer just so I can tell if he’s alive. I need to know if he’s alive. Just zip me in and out.” 

“It’s not safe. As it is I must leave you soon,” Pam said unequivocally. She picked my hands off her as if they stunk of rotting fish and began unbuttoning her blouse. We’d passed through a cloud of gnats during the run and, unfortunately, her blouse caught the brunt of it. “Presumably, Eric has closed off his end of the bond from Ocella so that Ocella won't know you're close, but they will still sense that I am and may come looking. There is nothing to gain by checking on your son now. If he’s already dead then getting close is a useless risk. If I proceed alone now and discover he lives then I will ensure his safety until your arrival... Even if I'm not a ‘kid person’.” She emphasized with finger quotations and a twitch of disgust on her dainty lips. This was clearly a great favor in Pam's terms.

I nodded with resignation and sighed tiredly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept. Yesterday? Or was it the day before? I hoped Hunter was sleeping okay. I just hoped he _was_ okay. He had to be okay… and if he wasn’t? The cluviel dor was there to make it right. I prayed it wouldn’t come to that. Claudine would need to counsel me through any wish I might need to make. It was a concern, but one I decided to not think about until I had to. Think about it tomorrow, Scarlett O’Hara style. I sent out a silent prayer to Hunter. He just needed to hold on a little longer.

“Do you think he’s alive?” I asked. 

“I do not know.”

I tried a different tack. “Do you think it’s likely he’s alive?” 

“Yes.” She cast off her shirt. It floated over to land on an overgrown bush beside her. Pam used wet wipes to give herself a quick clean. I averted my gaze. Her bra was pale pink and made from extremely sheer lace. “His blood, if like yours, would be of high pedigree and too valuable to waste on a quick kill. I suspect Ocella decided to keep him for that reason. A savings bond, waiting to mature. Children carry half the quantity of blood than an adult does. He would be a worthy investment.”

Her statement was equal parts comforting and equal parts revolting. Pam's frank candor was a big part of what I liked about vampires, though I realized I was making a huge generalization since the only vampires I knew were Eric and Pam. While I may not know what they were thinking, Eric and Pam spoke as bluntly as a butter knife. They didn’t bother sugar coating their words. They spoke their mind. 

Pam changed her outfit completely in the end, tossing her khakis away onto the bush too. Her careless behavior rankled. It was a waste to throw away good clothes, and so carelessly as well. Resources were finite, even if they seemed plentiful. When her back was turned I grabbed the items and stuffed them in my pack. I caught a glimpse of the tag on the blouse. Valentino. What a waste. Then I tried to picture Pam bent over a bubbling brook, scrubbing her clothes against a washboard with laundry soap. It was such an absurd image I nearly laughed. 

We walked briskly along a winding road, signs directing us to a local amphitheater. Pam used the opportunity to needle me for information about Eric. 

"How did he punish you when he finally found you? I want every lurid detail."

"He didn't punish me," I said. 

“Perhaps not in the traditional sense... I told you he was an excellent lover, did I not?” 

“Pam…” I warned. 

“Did he do that thing with his leg? The one where he holds you like…” She began moving her arms around to demonstrate a position. 

“Pam!” I cried, the blush spreading across my cheeks as quickly as a wildfire. 

“Tell me what he did exactly to get you to finally yield. More chains? ” Her brows waggled and she looked uncannily like Eric in that moment. “He’s out of practice. He probably hasn’t had to chase a woman since the night he chased me down and turned me. You realize, most girls have their panties down before he even gets within biting distance.” 

I rolled my eyes. I just bet they did. 

“Oranges,” I said, when it was apparent she wasn’t going to relent. I smiled, growing a little wistful with the memory. I hadn’t really had time to absorb those days with Eric. Hunter had rightly taken precedence over every waking moment and available thought since I got back to River Rock. 

“Oranges?” Pam gave me a blank look.

“Oranges,” I nodded. 

“Sounds kinky.” A knowing, sly smile spread across Pam’s lips. I decided some people (vampires) were beyond saving. 

“Do you think Eric would be protecting Hunter for me?” 

“I’m sure he wants to bed you again, so yes. I doubt he’s got enough of a fairy fix from you just yet.”

I nodded slowly at her words trying to take comfort in them. I was honestly too overwrought to care about Eric’s motivations anymore. If he was protecting Hunter, then I didn’t care the reason. We reached the amphitheater. Grass and weeds were nearly waist high and obscured the horse-shoe shaped pews that surrounded the stage. I held up the lantern and shot a sidelong glance to the curiously passive-faced Pam. She was up to something.

“There is shelter here. You will wait until morning, then come to the gardens,” she explained when she felt me looking. 

We started pushing our way down through the grass to the front and I climbed the steps to the stage and sat down on the edge, resting my lantern next to me. I unzipped the front pocket of my bag and took out a granola bar. I forced myself to eat it, my legs twitching restlessly. I needed the calories. Pam pulled out a machete concealed in the side of her pack and began slashing grass along the front row of seats. She didn’t waste time, using vampire speed to zip around. I watched her with growing apprehension and suspicion. 

“Tell me what you're doing,” I asked quietly. I didn’t have to project my voice. Natural acoustics and vampire hearing. She heard me perfectly.

“You can't tell from watching?” She lifted the blade, her expression and tone a mask of innocence too perfect to be true. She even exaggerated her accent.

“Don’t pull that.” When she didn’t answer I slapped my hand down hard on the stage. It reverberated loudly, echoing around the grassy arena. “Do you think this is funny? What exactly are you doing? Meddling? Setting the stage? Bringing me here – to what? Toy with me?”

“Oh, goody! The show is beginning already. And here I was waiting for the leading man.” She sat down on the central pew, crossing one leg over the other, her hands resting politely on top of her knee. A picture of elegance and British refinery, if you ignored the wicked smile and fangs. I let out a yell of frustration. “Cool your jets,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I brought you here after I already felt Eric coming to meet us. I feel he's on his way, sans maker. Finding the outdoor theater is just a happy accident. Now I get to see you two reunited before my eyes.” She flashed me her fangs. I don't know what kind of show she was picturing we'd put on.

I was too harried to focus and confirm Eric's approach with the tiny spark of our bond, but I had guessed as much before Pam had even made her admission. A moment later I felt the rapid approach of his void from high above. 

“What is wrong with y’all?" I snapped. "Do vampires get some perverse enjoyment pulling the strings like we’re human puppets? This is my life. The worst week of my life. My son’s life too. Not-”

Eric landed in the clearing between us, slashed grass flying up in a cloud around his feet. He was alone. 

He didn’t look at me. Eric stalked straight up to Pam and pulled her up by the arm. A torrent of angry words spoken in flurry of foreign tongue erupted from him. Pam argued back just as hotly, gesturing wildly to me. I jumped off the stage with the lantern in hand. I heard my name and some approximate version of the word vampire. Umpir, or something similarly close. 

“Eric,” I said, standing back. If they were going to scuffle I wasn’t planning on getting caught in the middle of it. Raised voices resonated around the amphitheater. Whatever they were saying, they were deeply opposed to one another. Eric’s eyes were absolutely wild, the curl to his lip venomous. 

“Eric.” I said it again. 

Pam looked at me and then back to Eric, all her earlier mischievousness gone. Another stream of words from her. This was clearly not how she was expecting this to go. 

“Enough, Pamela!” roared Eric. I stumbled back a step, a bolt of fear shooting through me. The sounds of the night – katydids, crickets, and somehow even the breeze which had been gusty all evening – it all stopped. 

“Let her help you! You will be free of him!” she shouted brokenly. Her eyes were round, a fine sheen of red at the rims. 

“Eric,” I said it more assertively this time, reaching to touch his arm. He stepped smoothly back out of reach. 

“You cannot touch me.” His tone brokered no negotiation. He didn’t even look at me. “Pamela, as your maker I command you to-”

Her face transformed in abject horror.

“Stop,” I demanded. I stepped in front of Pam, shielding her. I didn’t know what was happening. Maybe I could guess, but it all seemed irrelevant. If he was here then where was Hunter? “Is Hunter okay? Please tell me you didn’t leave him with your maker.” 

“He’s unharmed. Ocella grows impatient with my stalling and wishes to move on, he sent me to collect Pam.” 

“No…” My throat constricted.

He looked at me then, really looked at me. His gaze was dark and hard. There was no light behind his eyes. It was like that door to their suite in Florida; bolted, reinforced, shut. I barely recognized the vampire before me. Panic hit me, setting every nerve ending on fire. 

“You can’t do that. You can’t let him leave with my son!” I hit at his chest and he caught me by the wrists with the forefinger and thumb of each hand. 

“Do you want to be taken too?” he snarled. “I can’t have your fresh scent on me. Don’t be foolish and risk yourself also. You will get your son back.”

“How?” I snatched my hands away from him. 

“You will leave immediately and I will bring him to you. Go far. Go back to your home. Wait.” I didn’t know if he meant the house in River Rock or the one we spent those nights in at Two Forks. 

“Oh, hell no. You can’t order me around. I’m not your child, your command has no effect.” I was thrumming with anger, it flowed through my veins hot, bubbling and acidic. It wasn’t his fault, but somehow it was. I wanted to place all the blame on him. I had to place it on someone or my brain would explode, sending hot bolts of rage, anxiety, feelings of injustice - all of the pent up feelings from the last day. I hated feeling useless and out of control. I could’ve sworn if I blinked I’d find myself back in Florida, chained to that damned bed in Jupiter Island all over again. 

“The Gods, woman,” he cried. “You dig yourself an early grave being this stubborn. You will not end my maker. I forbid it.”

The breeze picked back up again, the long grasses rustling coolly against one another; like a whispering audience sharing their disquiet. 

“She’s capable, Eric. She can find him in daylight,” Pam said quietly. She had moved beside me, her head bowed low like a scolded child.

“She’s right, I am capable,” I said. “I’m not backtracking. I’m not. I’m not leaving without my son.” 

“And I am capable of killing, Sookie. I am well-seasoned in murder.” He ground out the words, his eyes boring straight into me. “I am capable of torturing you; turning you.” 

I stared him down. Maybe I was foolish, or too stubborn for my own good, but his words had no effect. Just because I was perfectly capable of stabbing someone in the gut every time I held a knife, didn’t mean I would. He was trying to spook me into acquiescence. I may not have known him long, but I’d seen a glimpse of the real Eric, the one under this hard, vampire exterior. He was a vampire who laughed with me, dinked me on the handle bars of my bike while riding fishtails down the street, the vampire who spent the better part of an hour filling up a bathtub one potful of simmering water at a time just so I could have a hot bath. Eric was the type of vampire who would travel across an entire state just to fulfill a craving of mine. 

He was also arrogant and highhanded as all get out, and he would say something hurtful and nasty if he felt the ends justified the means.

“You won’t,” I said.

“Appius Livius Ocella could command anything of him and Eric would be helpless to resist,” Pam said, her tone subdued. Her cool hand was at my elbow. I drew in a sharp breath. Her soft voice, her unexpected touch, it affected me in a way Eric’s words hadn’t. My vision blurred with tears.

“How can you let someone have that much control over you?” It was horrifying. 

“There is no ‘let’. It simply is,” Eric said flatly. I turned to Pam, her face mirrored his. A long moment passed, the drift of freshly cut grass at our feet muddying the night air with its earthy, damp scent. 

“Then what’s to stop him coming back for Hunter as soon as you bring him to me? Or in a week? Or month? What if he forms one of those permanent blood ties with him?” The words burned my tongue, turned my stomach. 

“It won’t happen. I’ll see to it.” 

“You can really promise that?” 

A slow nod. The rushing of the long grass murmured its silent approval, but there was doubt in me. Eric could promise, Eric could even believe it, but could he deliver? And if he could, what would that mean for him? What would he need to do in order to get Ocella to agree to release Hunter?

“What about you? Your consequences?” I thought of the peek I had into Pam’s mind, the awful knowledge I’d learned. The sick things Eric had told Pam about the ways he was brought to heel as a newborn vampire by Ocella. Or Appius, whatever the hell his name was. There was torture. He had been raped too, I was sure of it. Or he had at least been helpless to the whims of his maker’s sexual tastes. But even consenting out of helplessness was rape. Physical and psychological.

“He released me hundreds of years ago,” he said and finally, I saw a glimpse of the vampire I recognized. His fingers twitched, the hard line of his mouth softening. I felt a deep ache, an urge to reach out and take his hand. “He may be my maker, but our bond is founded in respect of the other. He has come with his child to ask a favor of me, and for this, I will ask him one in return.” 

“You’ll trade favors to get Hunter back to me,” I repeated. 

So Hunter’s safety would come down to the age-old vampire currency. Favors. Somehow that knowledge didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t enough assurance for me. Or maybe I was just so geared up to kill Ocella, so jacked-up on Mama Bear emotions, that anything other than the true death was not final enough. And he had another vampire child with him? It had to be the young one I’d seen in Jessup’s mind, bent over Donna draining her dead. 

Eric nodded again, studying my face closely.

"Is he okay?" I said at last. Unharmed was the word Eric had used but it wasn't the same as okay. 

"He is fine. Well fed, warm. Asking for you. He hasn't been hurt since my arrival." 

"...Since?" I whispered. Eric's eyes were filled with unreadable emotion. There was too much there, just like Pam's thoughts. So many emotions that I couldn't grasp a single one. He opened his mouth to respond.

“Eric,” Pam said urgently. His gaze snapped to her and his eyes widened. They were listening to something. 

“He’s closed the bond,” he cursed. “Take her, Pam. Run.”


	18. Alexei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter of this story set in a different point of view. We're seeing a short snapshot of time from Alexei Romanov's perspective and in the third person too. Next chapter will be posted later tonight and will resume with the usual Sookie first-person POV. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the temporary change of pace.

Ambrosia. 

Sweet, heady delicacy. 

It laced through the dark wind like a vine around his inert heart. He was brought back to summertime as a young boy, running through waist-high grasses near the summer palace. The soft velvet pastures would move around him as he skipped through as if parting just for him. His sisters would give chase behind him, but not really - they slowed their pace just enough to give the illusion of pursuit. 

They could have easily outrun him, but they did not wish to exert the young boy so much that he may fall and injure himself. They also favored him. They all favored him. So he won. He always won. 

Back then, summer wildflowers, their blossoms yellow pink violet, would unfurl face up in warm welcome to the sun. They perfumed the breeze with the scent of happiness and carefree abandon. But a faint undercurrent of caution had always existed, it was hidden underneath: a base note. Fear. Fear Alexei would injure himself. Fear he would not heal. Fear he would bleed out. Fear he would die. Fear the next tsar, the tsareviech, heir to Russia, would never take his rightful throne. 

Fear that there would be revolt and the peoples of Russia would oust their family from the throne in a way most bloody.

He smelled it all now, memories as vivid as reality, one hundred years after he had enjoyed his last summer’s day and it all called to him. He drew a deep breath, the gusty North Carolina wind stirring him. The sweet smell called to a deep part of him which has always existed, always longed to grasp every fine thing in this world within his own two hands. Clasp, squeeze. _Mine_. 

Squeeze until the life disappeared. Until he had consumed it completely. She was close.

“Podozhdite,” Ocella warned. _Wait._

Ocella’s hand was on Alexei’s neck, his fingertips pressing like five hard bolts into the younger vampire’s nape. 

They had met and parted with Ocella’s eldest child, Alexei’s brother in blood, at an overgrown amphitheater some miles away. They arrived to find the Northman alone and Ocella had ordered him back to the small human at the atrium within the gardens where they were settled for the night. Commanded that he call his progeny, Pamela, to his side and take her with him too. Alexei could sense the petulant Brit had been there earlier but had left, taking that delicious scent along with her, leaving its trail behind like a fine shroud. 

The Northman was bothersome, Alexei thought, so tightly wound, always glowering behind his arctic eyes. He saw the way Northman seethed when Ocella wasn’t watching. Alexei loathed Northman’s superior, holier-than-thou manner. He loathed the way Ocella regarded Northman with love and pride. My finest work, Ocella often said. 

And here Ocella now stood, clasping Alexei, his youngest child, tightly by the back of the neck like a master restraining a disobedient hound. A failed work-in-progress. Most of all, Alexei loathed the way Northman looked at him. As if he were defect. A maimed, diseased human brought over too late and damaged. Like a bucket of spoiled milk, left by the maids at the barn door and curdled by sunshine. Alexei’s hate was wholly consuming.

He had drank spoiled milk of course, the sour flavor still curled his tongue even in memory. It was in the days before the Bolsheviks came and brutally massacred his human family. They had been sent away to Serbia, forced to live in a house a quarter of the size of the many palaces he was accustomed to. They were cloistered away, the windows covered with heavy drapes. _Domashniy arest._ House arrest. They were required – forced – to remain indoors at all times. Then given little to eat. Spoiled milk, stale bread, hard cheese, cabbage. 

He and his sisters tried to fill time partaking in studies, playing checkers in the parlor, reading to one another. Cooped away from the real world, cut off from the outside. Too scared to even look out the window lest they be shot at. All for naught. Their efforts too little, too late. They were slain, bayonetted and shot one by one, and thrown in the same grave. It was too late for his father and mother, his sisters too. But not too late for Alexei. 

Though some, like the Northman, might believe that point arguable. 

It still haunted him. Lying in his grave and waiting for death, watching as the life flickered out of his family’s eyes one by one. The metallic tang of their blood in the air. The gurgles of their last breaths taken.

Another gust of breeze brought him back to the present. The woman, whose delicious scent held him now like a fist clasping around the last spark of life within him, was just through the trees. They had traveled by air. Scented her. Found her. It made his chest blaze with want. He wanted to take it, claim it all for himself, suck it all down. Feed his soul with sunlight itself. 

Alexei could almost see her, could just imagine the fear glittering in her eyes just as the scent of it peppered the breeze. She smelled quite like the young boy, Hunter at the atrium, but better.

“Pazhalusta, gospodil,” Alexei rasped. _Please, master._ The longing to hunt, kill, drink gripped him with such intensity it is as if his spirit would tear right through his chest just to reach her before his physical form could. 

“Nyet. Padozhdite.” _No. Wait._ It was a command. He heard the disapproval in his maker’s voice.

For his entire human life, Alexei was given everything on a silver spoon. Literally. Figuratively. The long awaited son of the Romanovs. Loved, heralded, and worshiped by his family. Adored by the Russian public. Both with such strength and vigor that it kept him alight in a way his ailing body could not. 

And until his death, he was not accustomed to being told no. Not used to bending to the will of others. To the will of his master’s heavy hand. And how heavy it was. His hand on his nape. His presence at his back. The whip of his maker’s hand across his jaw. The length of his arousal at his side when Alexei rose from day slumber. 

His existence as vampire was a series of tests, quite different to the medical tests of his childhood. Tests of fortitude. Tests of patience. Tests of endurance. He loved his maker, more than he perhaps even loved himself. More than his human family loved him. But it was a twisted love. Twisted with his maker’s dark desires, twisted with the suffocating bloodlust that always crept at the edges of Alexei’s vision like a tide of shadows. Twisted in need and reliance on his master’s command.

Wants and needs. Two things that had rarely been denied to him in his living days. Now it was a constant denial. Now there was only one want, one need. Insatiable thirst for blood. 

It did not always hold total command of his actions, but when it did it gripped him entirely. Why must he be denied, when his whole life he had been indulged? It was owed to him. In life, he shed blood. In death, he longed to soak in it. Sop in it, until he was drunk on life itself. It was only fair he take what he was owed.

Ocella had tried to control the urge in him. To temper it. But it was too strong. More importantly, Alexei did not want to control it. It was like the box of French truffles his grandmother had brought back from Berlin for him when he was nine. One chocolate for now, the rest of later, she’d said. But she then smiled indulgently when he ate the box in one afternoon. See? It really was all for now. It was how Alexei saw the world, full of soft boundaries that he deserved to cross. Truffles waiting to be consumed.

He recalled his last kill, an older woman who smelled faintly of cloves and soil. The woman had fought hard, beating him with her fists while Alexei gorged himself at her neck. He feels a stirring in his pants at the memory. The bloodlust crept, like a wolf prowling behind the tree line waiting to pounce. 

Ocella had been furious by the woman’s death and Alexei had suffered at his maker’s hand that night; it had culminated in hard lovemaking. So twisted, like his love. _Humans are not to be wasted,_ Ocella had furiously decreed. _No more killing. Control your urges like I have shown you._

Yes, perhaps Alexei had the tools to control it. But the desire to do so simply did not exist. Alexei wanted for nothing as a child. In death, he wished it to be the same. He resented that it wasn’t. 

Ocella moved forward, walking Alexei along and out from the shadows. They saw the girl, she was backed against a tree, a tall birch, and clutched a stake in her hand. Her eyes were wide and doe-like, hair long like a golden wave. She reinvigorated the pleasure and want that Ocella had commanded out of Alexei with regards to the small human boy, Hunter. They smelled similar, yet different. The boy he cannot have… but this girl he must. 

She was smart enough not to run, though Alexei wished she would. Adrenaline added a mouthwatering zest. 

“You are the one my child and his progeny have been protecting,” Ocella said.

“And you are the piece of shit who kidnapped my son.” Her voice was strong and bullheaded. Not the milk and honey Alexei anticipated. No pleading or begging as he had hoped. 

“Yes. Young Hunter. A remarkable turn of events. My child and I share good tastes.” Ocella told Alexei he suspected a familial relation between her and the young boy when his maker first caught the scent of her on Northman. The girl and Northman had shared blood. Her relation to the small boy was more or less confirmed when Northman had argued so vehemently against taking the boy back to Europe. 

Ocella was calm as he left Alexei’s side to approach the girl, one hand resting behind him at the small of his back. A neutral pose. She lifted her chin, her eyes bold and brimming with life. Alexei felt his fangs throb in response. Perhaps this was even better than fear, Alexei thought. Even in the low light, he saw the pulse of her jugular fluttering like a dove. 

“Your tastes are sick. Don’t compare them to Eric’s,” she said. Like a whip cracking, the blow across her cheek echoed. She cried out. 

“You speak out of turn. Unacceptable.” Ocella took the stake from her hand and crumbled it to splinters in his fist. “You will learn to heel. The boy’s life is reliant upon it.” 

“Heel?” she said dazedly, soothing her cheek with her hand. Blood formed like a dew drop at the corner of her mouth. Alexei could no longer hide his fangs behind his lips. 

“As a good pet should,” Alexei drawled, his throbbing fangs slurring his speech. Ocella sent a surge of restraint through their maker-child bond. Alexei growled in frustration. 

“You and your kin will both return with me to Europe,” Ocella explained, taking her by the arm. She flinched under his touch. “You will do well as my companions. You will care for the young child while I am dead for the day.”

“What about Eric and Pam?” she asked. 

“Eric will stay here with Alexei. And Pam?” He trailed off with a gesture of his hand. He wasn’t concerned with her comings and goings. 

Alexei watched Ocella silently. His father, his human one, never gave up on him despite his physical shortcomings; his hemophilia. In fact, Alexei was treasured for it. That the father of his undead life would abandon Alexei, pass him along like an unwanted pet too difficult to tame - and on to his older cherished brother, no less, it infuriated him. 

The woman looked at Alexei, as if for the first time noticing his presence. Her eyes transformed into round pools of blue. “You are so young,” she breathed. 

“Older than you,” he said, though Alexei knew she meant his physical form, not true age. Another thing life had robbed from him. A fully matured body. So much this world owed him. So much he would take in return.

“You’re sick,” she directed to Ocella, her face twisting in disgust. She received another deserved smack for this.

“No more talking.” He glamoured her. She doesn’t seem responsive at first, but then wilted under his gaze, accepting his influence. Much like the young boy. Her bottom lip had puffed, an attractive rosebud blooming. 

Ocella turned Alexei.

“Ochen harosho, Alexei. Ya radha.” _Very good, Alexei. I’m pleased._ Why was he pleased with him? Alexei didn’t know. It was Ocella who commanded his restraint. It occurred to Alexei that Ocella had finally washed his hands of him, his maker’s efforts were now simply a farce.

Because Alexei recognized the steel glint in his maker’s eye. It had appeared three nights earlier. His attentions were turned elsewhere now. Enthralled by another. The young human boy.

“You may feed from the older boy, Joey, when we return,” Ocella said. 

_One chocolate for now, the rest for later._

Ocella offered a small smile to his child, an indulgence. That snapping wolf was leaping within Alexei, ready to be loosed. They took the girl and left, Ocella hoisting her over his shoulder. She was limp like a marionette. They flew straight to the Cape Fear gardens, to the tall atrium building at its center. Alexei rushed in ahead of his maker and dragged the older teen from the corner where he had been resting, curled on the floor. He was glamoured, though his feet still scuffled and scraped in resistance against the floorboards. 

Alexei slaked himself on blood, a messy bite that tore straight through flesh into the artery. The teen struggled weakly under him. His death was a possession owed to Alexei. No more denial, only the indulgence that he deserved. He was royalty, after all. 

The girl’s fear filled the room, the delectable scent flowering outwards like the bruise on her chin. The teen’s pulse under Alexei’s mouth sputtered, slowed. 

Clasp, squeeze. _Mine._


	19. Crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Alexei listens to Marschner's overture 'Der Vampyr'. Maybe you'd like to listen to it too, as you read this chapter?

_Do you remember the day at the lake? When we fished and ate sandwiches on the jetty?_

_Yes, Mommy. You got a big fish. He had funny eyes._

_It did, didn’t it? Then you helped me cook it, and can you remember swimming with your friends?_

_And Mommy, you broke the frisbee. You said you would fix it._

_That’s right, I did. Well, I promise to fix it as soon as we get home._

My heart was beating so wildly I was sure the vampires would hear it echoing off the glass walls and ceiling of the atrium. I was feigning glamour, sitting with my back to the windows between some dining tables that were dragged to the edges of the atrium-style reception hall. 

I stared numbly at the bloodied spot where Eric had rushed out from behind closed doors and dragged that young vampire Alexei off of Joey. It was too late for him. Joey was dead. I wondered how many couples had danced their first waltz as husband and wife on the very spot where Joey bled to death. 

Ocella said something to Alexei in Russian after Joey stopped twitching and then Eric had left the room, stalking through the double doors back to the kitchen. Ocella left too, throwing open the wide French doors leading outside and leaving Alexei to follow after. Alexei dragged Joey’s body out of the building, leaving a long trail of blood along the polished tile floor. Like a human snail. I pinched my lips shut and forced myself to look away.

_Mommy, I have a bucket if you want to spew._

Shoot, my shields were slipping. 

I focused on building them high in my mind, reinforcing them. Hunter was close. Just through the other side of the swinging double doors where Eric has disappeared into the kitchen. Unbearably close. I couldn’t quite see through the small porthole windows on the doors. It took everything I had not to get up and dash across the room to see him with my own two eyes. Eric was in there with him. Why?

_I don’t need to spew, hon. Can you remember the time we found those baby frogs? In the little pond behind Jessup’s house?_

Hunter didn’t rise to the bait with my distraction. His own little shields were in place. He’d been talking to me non-stop since we got into range of each other, but now there was silence. Maybe Eric was talking to him? What were they doing? Hunter had been so far carrying on a pretty normal conversation with me mentally. He told me he was okay, a little hungry and tired. 

I felt the effects of glamour in his mind. It filled me with dread and worry. And while he was thrilled to ‘hear’ me, he seemed to understand he had to stay in the kitchen. If Alexei and Ocella stayed out of the kitchen until dawn then it suited me just fine. I could be patient.

Alexei returned and reclined on the tattered chesterfield at the corner of the room, listening to something classical through an old windup brass bell gramophone. It was set up on a long pine buffet beside him, the shiny brass bell reflecting the flicker of candlelight coming from the large standing candelabras that were positioned around the edges of the room. 

Pam was sitting at a dining table across the room from me, rapping her nails against the dusty surface. She looked bored. It was a façade. Or so I believed. She had been madder than a wet hen when Eric called her to his side. She was running me through the forest not less than an hour ago until suddenly she wasn’t. Her hands had curled almost like claws, grasping onto the narrow birch beside us, her will keeping her in place, but it was useless. Under maker’s command, her body not her own. I slipped off her shoulder and tried to help her stay put by bearing down on her shoulders. Her face morphed in anger and determination, but eventually, she had walked as if possessed backward away from me. 

“Keep running,” she had yelled. “Ocella must have ordered Eric to call me back to his side like this. I can’t ignore his call.” Then she was gone.

Running hadn’t done much me good. Ocella and Alexei, the baby faced vampire who was all wrong, found me soon enough. 

Now here I sat, knees to chest, on the floor inside a great atrium reception hall within the botanical gardens. The cluviel dor was in my pocket was burning a hole. I could use it; clasp it in my hand. Change it all. The temptation was there. Everything about it was temptation. It was warm against my thigh. Pulsing with life. 

I stared past where Pam was sitting and out into the dark night. The wind was howling, whistling through the trees. Above it all, dark clouds raced through the sky, stars playing cat and mouse with the cumulus. Could I wish the world back to how it was? Would that constitute a wish for love? Or was the scale of a wish like that too big? Maybe I could wish the world back to its original state for Hunter’s sake? Wish it so there was no plague to wipe out humanity?

_I got a bucket! Eric can bring you a barf bucket! It’s a whole kitchen here, Mommy. There’s tin peaches. I’m eating them. Eric opened them._

_Hunter. I don’t need a bucket. I need you to sit still and be quiet. Please, baby. Please sit still and be quiet._

_Momma, I am quiet. I can’t talk._

I gasped. Pam didn’t move, though her eyes flicked to my direction for a fraction of a second. I dropped my head down between my knees. 

_What do you mean? Why can’t you talk?_

_The quiet big man with the grumpy face. I was crying and he got mad and made my voice go._

Quiet man with a grumpy face. Appius Livius Ocella. Ocella glamoured Hunter to stop making noise? Shock rippled through me. Until I had arrived to the atrium and felt his mind, I’d wrongly assumed Hunter couldn’t be glamoured, but it explained why Ocella thought he had glamoured me successfully – because it had worked perfectly well for Hunter. I wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing.

_Did he hurt you? Are you okay?_

_I’m okay. He made Alexy stop hurting me._

_I bit my lip hard to stop from crying out._

_Are you still hurt, baby?_

_No, Momma. I’m all better._

I felt sick. Did a vampire give him blood to make him all better?

Alexei was vicious. Uncontrollable. No wonder Ocella was ditching him with Eric. While Alexei paid Ocella such deference, he was still all wrong. He was missing something. I thought about the mischief and life I saw in Eric’s eyes. Pam’s too. Alexei’s were just lifeless. Absolutely dead. 

Even now, watching Alexei stare up through the glass ceiling as he listened to his music, foot swinging in time, I could mistake him for dead. He was just a moving corpse. I guess you could argue that for any vampire - but if you saw one in the flesh you’d understand what I meant. Alexei was missing something essential that had carried over with Eric when he was turned. Eric was full of life; his gestures, the strength of his emotions, the fluid way he moved and commanded a room. Even the way his muscles moved under his skin. Flawless and energetic like some sort of living, moving Italian renaissance painting.

Looking at Alexei was like watching a lizard living inside the skin of a human, trying to mimic human movements but not quite pulling it off. I’d read about it somewhere, maybe in one of Owen’s magazines he kept on mechanics and robotics. Uncanny valley. The sense of unease, a weird sort of revulsion from watching something behave so close to human but not quite passing for real. 

I squeezed my eyes shut again. My brain flooded with a million possibilities of how he could have hurt Hunter. I wanted to ask Hunter, but not until I was holding him in my arms somewhere safe.

I resolved to stop thinking about the cluviel dor. I wouldn’t be making a wish tonight. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight. Hunter was in the next room, seemingly safe. This would be just like Jupiter Island all over again. Focus on making it to morning and then get the hell out of dodge. …Except I’d be making sure to eliminate any potential future threats first. Ocella and then Alexei. 

I hoped God would forgive me but if he had any sense he would see it for what it is. A community service to what was left of humankind. Alexei clearly had no qualms killing what precious little there was left of human beings and Ocella… Who tortured and brutalized his first vampire child. Goodness knows what he had done to Alexei to make him behave as he did, and then to turn him so young too. It was sickening. I could only begin to imagine what horrors he had in store for Hunter.

Yes, as far I was concerned, Alexei and Ocella were two vampires dead from the moment their natural human lives ended. I was just scraping their leftovers into the garbage.

I sensed a void glide smoothly across the room to me and a cool hand lifted my chin. I kept my eyes shut. I knew Eric couldn’t glamour me and while Ocella had failed when he tried, I was afraid. Afraid to look a vampire in the eyes. Glamour had worked for Hunter. And Ocella was older – and stronger. A deep fear whispered inside me, that maybe he could break through my barriers this time. And that my body, my mind, and my will would no longer be my own. 

“Clever girl,” Ocella crooned. “But it’s time to open your eyes.” 

My forehead tickled and I opened my eyes reluctantly, but thankfully voluntarily.

When I saw Ocella for the first time back in the forest clearing after Pam had left me, he hadn’t been as terrifying as I imagined. He was tall, but still shorter than Eric, chestnut brown hair with dark brows that hooded his eyes, a strong nose with a prominent bridge, angular jaw, and dimpled chin. He had an air of calm surrounding him. Like he had walked off the pages of a textbook illustration of some ancient civilization and was absorbing the current world with a quiet clarity.

Even looking at him now in the eerie candlelight of the atrium, I struggled to imagine this vampire of cool demeanor as being the sick fuck I saw in Pam’s mind. But that was the first law of telepathy, wasn’t it? Looks were deceiving. Even your sweet, elderly neighbor held secrets that could curl your toes. 

My eyes shifted involuntarily towards the kitchen doors. I caught snatches from Hunter’s mind. His shields weren’t great, often wobbly and hard to maintain for long lengths of time. He was amused, absorbed by something Eric was telling him.

“You want to see your son?” Ocella asked.

I nodded, a tear brimming over the lip of my eyelid. Ocella thumbed it away and tasted it. I felt a sweep of indignation, mad at myself for showing any sort of weakness. 

He hummed his pleasure. “My child has impeccable tastes, even if you are more mouth than sense.” 

Pent up rage ran up and through me. Who did this vampire fucker think he was? And I since I was ‘glamoured’ I couldn’t even give him a piece of my mind! I exhaled hard through my nostrils and spat at his feet instead. 

Ocella didn’t flinch, but the candles seemed to. Alexei sat up from the seat, watching with growing interest. Pam’s nails stopped tapping. The music played on, pitching and swirling and trilling towards some high point. 

“Stand up,” he said, pressure in my forehead building. I stood, narrowing my gaze at him angrily. 

He calmly pressed me by the neck until I was against the glass wall behind me. Hard. Pinpricks of light appeared in my vision. The safety glass buckled and cracked behind me, though it didn’t give. 

“Do you wish to see your son? Remain by his side until he is of age?” 

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move my head or respond. Comprehension trickled in slowly. _Of age?_ What sick standards did Ocella live by? Did he consider Alexei of age? He looked barely 15. I wanted to scream at him. All I could do was blink. 

“Then I suggest heeling like a good pet. Your mothering skills will be limited if I have to glamour every last scrap of personality from you. Speak if you understand.”

My lips moved uselessly, trying to mouth the word ‘air’. Instead, he brought his head down to my neck and bit savagely. I hadn’t even noticed his fangs were extended until I felt the pain. I kicked and writhed under him. His grip around my neck slipped as he drank and I gasped in a lungful of welcome air. Hunter was screaming for me within my mind and I heard a distant clatter across the room. 

_Momma…! Mommy!_

Ocella was pulled off me, Eric appearing in a whirlwind. I heard him roar before he threw Ocella across the room and the two began fighting viciously. I slumped against the cracked glass, which was still somehow holding together. I pressed a hand to my neck, frozen on the spot watching the two men. Blood oozed from between my fingers. Eric seemed enraged but Ocella was energized, blood dripping from his chin, his eyes alive and lustful as he fought against his first born progeny. 

_Mommy! Where are you, Mommy!?_

My head snapped towards the kitchen. I began scrabbling to get to my feet but Alexei was upright off the chesterfield within an instant, fangs bared at me. Pam leaped after him. Shit! The room swam, movement closing in from all sides. The string music pin-wheeled higher and higher. 

In the time it took to blink, Alexei was on me, he had moved faster than a house afire - faster than even Pam could grab for him. He ripped into where Ocella had started off, letting out feral sounds, rutting against me. I screamed, the sound echoing in a loud peal. The glass gave out under our combined weight and shattered with a startling crack. I knocked my head hard against the frame on the way down but continued kicking and thrashing under him. 

_Mommy! What’s happening? Mommy, I want you!_

Hunter couldn’t cry out loud, but hearing him cry hysterically within my mind sent me into a tailspin. I palmed the ground desperately, feeling the glass for shards. I grabbed the biggest I could, stabbing Alexei’s side in multiple sweeping jerks. The glass sliced and bit painfully into my fingers and palms. I didn't care, I had to get him off me! Alexei shrieked, ripping his head backward off my neck. His face was bloody, mouth twisted in agony. 

It wasn’t from the glass, I realized with a gasp. I dropped the glass shard and I heard it break again when it hit the floor. Alexei wasn’t screaming from the glass… He was screaming from the dining chair leg jutting out of his chest. He palmed the tip of the chair leg, it was protruding from his sternum like a strange bloody growth. He gawped at me in horror before disintegrating all over me into wet, bloody slop. 

I cried out, completely covered. It fell into my hair, mouth, all over my person. Some of it strangely warm. Maybe that was my blood? A hand pulled me to my feet and the remains of Alexei and the chair leg fell off me and onto the ground. The blood began deteriorating, turning from red to black sludge and then much of it to ash.

“Looking good, Sookie,” Pam said, giving my hand a squeeze. I wobbled away from her and grabbed onto the edge of the dining table beside me to steady myself. 

Ocella had Eric pinned to the floor, though both were now gazing at me, fangs bared. Uh-oh. I was bloody and bleeding. I didn’t think my current state was safe for any vampire company right now. 

“This is your fault, fadēr,” Eric hissed at Ocella. “Turning those who are better off dead. You’ve gone soft in old age.” 

This seemed to affect Ocella, and he eased up on Eric, allowing him to stand. Ocella had lost some of that unflappable composure of his; his eyes hollow with shock, his jaw slack. 

“You also, Eiríkr,” Ocella said, not drawing his gaze from me. Whether he was staring at the remains of his other vampire son that I was coated in or just me, I couldn’t tell you. “You are not so nimble when it comes to containing your feelings for this one.” 

Hunter was still crying in my mind, repeating my name. 

_I’m fine, baby. Mommy is okay._

_Mommy, I want to see you. I’m scared. I want you._

_Can you leave the room?_

_No, Eric said I had to stay._ He began crying afresh. 

_I can’t come in right now, hon. Mommy is a bit messy, but I’ll get cleaned up and come right in. I’ll see if I can send my friend Pam to say hello and keep you company._

“Jesus H. Christ, this is disgusting,” I said, brushing off vampire slop. It made wet, slapping sounds as it hit the ground. Ocella flinched visibly and Eric grabbed his shoulder as if he might need to restrain him. I watched with interest as the remains on the floor began to change consistency and disintegrate. 

“Are you harmed?” Eric asked me, concern in his eyes. He stepped around Ocella to stride over to me. His words rubbed me completely the wrong way. Was I harmed? Was the Pope catholic? I was coated in Eric’s dead brother, openly bleeding from the neck. What on God’s green earth was wrong with vampires?

“Are you two done with your pissing contest while I was fighting for my life over here?” 

“At least someone had your back,” Pam declared completely smug and unashamed. 

“Thank you,” I said, wishing I could muster a smile.

“I’d hug you, but this is raw silk,” she replied smoothly. Well. So much for sisterhood. Pam did flash a winning smile to the men. And her blouse was completely unscathed. Incredible. 

“Punish your child, Eric,” Ocella snarled, his mood shifting gears. “She is impetuous and behaves as if without consequence. She killed your own brother.” 

“Pamela, go and check on Hunter,” Eric said, seemingly ignoring his maker’s request. His eyes were still on me. Did he read my mind? How did he know I was going to ask that? 

“You’re joking. What I did hardly deserves _that_ as punishment.” 

Ocella looked livid, but the corner of Eric’s mouth quirked. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said to Ocella. “Alexei had it coming.” 

“Please, Pam. Go check on Hunter,” I said softly. 

“Fine,” she snipped. “But know I’m not happy about this.” She stalked out, heels clicking against the tile. Judging by the look of barely restrained rage on his face, I didn’t quite think that was what Ocella had in mind as a suitable punishment.

_Pam’s coming, Hunter. I’ll be there soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final two chapters will be posted over the next three days.


	20. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is the final chapter to this story arc, it is not the end. There is still an epilogue to follow.  
> Please keep that in mind when you reach the end of the page!

“That is hardly a punishment befitting the death of my child; your own brother in blood,” Ocella said to Eric. His fists clenched.

“I won’t punish her for putting a defective vampire out of its misery. I would’ve ordered no less as Sheriff had it been a different vampire from a different maker. You know I speak the truth,” Eric said.

“I have taught you to control your own better. Her leash must be tightened.” 

“Oh, give it a rest,” I said, gingerly removing my fingers from my neck. The bleeding had stopped ... or slowed. I couldn't tell which. “You clearly made a mistake making Alexei.” Everyone made mistakes. Although, most human mistakes didn’t include making broken, ravenous child vampires.

“This one also needs a tighter leash. You allow your pet to speak to you in such ways?” Ocella gestured to me, appalled and disapproving. “A warm cunt and succulent blood is not enough to tolerate her foul mouth.” 

Eric growled and slammed Ocella onto the floor by the throat. 

“You do not know what you speak of. Do not presume to know my motivations,” Eric gritted out, his eyes flashing. I wanted to stalk over and kick Ocella. _He_ was the one accusing _me_ of having the foul mouth? 

“Let go,” Ocella commanded. Eric’s fingers unfurled from around his neck. “You will have time to explain your motivations when we journey to Europe. With Alexei gone, you will accompany me with the girl and her son. I can see in the time since I have released you, you have erred and require further guidance.” 

Ocella rose to his feet without physically standing up, he just sort of floated up like a ghost rising from the floor. He moved across the floor to me, his countenance returning to its usual impassivity. 

“I will make an example of you,” he said to me, lifting a bloody and ashen lock of my hair. “And for the sake of my first child, perhaps the teaching would be in his best interest to start now. Eric, come – watch closely.” 

I wasn’t sure if his ordering Eric to come was a vampire command, but his tone made it sound as good as one. Like he was calling a dog. I let out a humorless laugh, though it came out closer to a dry rasp.

“Something amusing?” Ocella asked, wrapping his fingers around my hair and pulling it tight. 

“You don’t parent through exerting total control,” I said. I could deal with a bit of hair pulling, I grew up the younger sister of Jason Stackhouse, after all. 

“Is that so, little pet? Then please, elaborate, how should one parent?” His tone was condescending and his grip tightened on my hair, pulling my head back to completely expose my throat. His free hand traced the area both he and Alexei had been feeding on. The gash didn't feel open anymore. My guess was my vampire bloodbath saw to healing most of that mess. I could still taste Alexei's blood in my mouth, I had swallowed some too.

“That’s the million-dollar question,” I said, passing over his gaze to focus on Eric. “But I can tell you forcing control raises you two types of children: one who blindly follows authority-” 

“Sookie,” Eric warned.

Ocella scoffed. “You obviously do not know my child, he could rule the Americas if he had the inclination.” 

“I suppose he could. But he doesn’t. He’s the other sort of child. He rebels against authority instead.” 

“Silence! I will not tolerate further foolishness. Eric, teach your pet a lesson. Cauterizare.” 

Cauterizare? I blinked. I didn’t know what language that was, Greek or Latin, maybe. But I sure as hell got the gist of the word. My heartbeat was picking up in time with my rising panic. I wanted to slide my hand into my front pocket but I was frozen, too terrified to make any sudden move. 

“Ocella, she is provoking you. Don’t be so easily swayed,” Eric said. Was I? No, that was unintentional. If anything, I was trying to provoke the other vampire in the room into doing something.

“Eiríkr, nec ultra addas loqui. Eg præcipio tibi.” _Eric, speak no more. I command you to do this._ Ocella dropped his hold of me and grabbed a tall candle from one of the standing candelabras beside the buffet. The brass gramophone had unwound some time earlier, now our only soundtrack was the violent wind outside. It howled through the trees like a choir of ghostly voices. 

“Don’t, Fadēr,” Eric said, grinding out the words in protest. His fingers moved woodenly around the candle Ocella proffered. Eric's other hand came to clasp me tightly by the arm. 

“She must learn who is the authority, Eric,” Ocella growled. “Show her the consequences so that she will not forget her place. She is your pet, treat her as such.” 

Time slowed. Eric moved as though his body was not his own. It wasn’t. He was a puppet for his maker’s wishes. The flame hovered over the skin of my arm, licking the surface. Hot wax dripped onto the floor. 

“It’s okay,” I mouthed to him. Eric shook his head, fangs extended. It wasn’t okay, he seemed to be saying back. I closed my eyes and willed myself back into our house in Tennessee, imagined I was lying beside the fire, the chenille blanket under me, the taste of fresh orange still on my tongue, Eric’s arms wrapped around me. Back when I was existing safe in the knowledge that Hunter was tucked in bed at home waiting for my return.

_Hunter, tell Pam to take you somewhere quiet. Into a pantry or an old walk-in fridge. Cover your ears._

_She’s funny, Mommy. She told me knives are fun toys._

_Hunter, no knives. Go hide somewhere quiet–_

I slammed my shields high as the fine hair on my arm fizzed and curled under the lick of flame. The smell of burning flesh preceded my cry of pain. Blinding, hot, inescapable. It was only small though. Unthinkable pain, but only in one small spot. I wiggled my toes, trying weakly to turn my focus to them and away from my arm. It didn’t help. 

“Stop. No more,” I gasped, gripping his wrist to try and push him away. It was useless. I’d have more luck pulling the sword of Excalibur from stone. 

Eric made a strangled growl as Ocella whispered something to him in his foreign tongue. Eric moved the flame higher and his thumb began digging into the burn wound. I squeezed my eyes shut and began crying. I hated myself. I didn’t want to cry. I desperately didn’t want to show Ocella how he affected me, couldn’t bear to show Eric the pain he was causing. But I was weak. I was human. Pain was inescapable.

_Momma, Pam said keep goating Ocella … and…_

What? Hunter’s words failed to register. Goating? Hunter’s voice had gone quiet. The trail of flame moved steadily higher. I hissed and clamped my jaw down, trying to muffle my cries and whimpers. 

“See, son? She quiets now, she is accepting her place,” Ocella said smoothly.

Hunter’s voice returned. _… and Eric will help. Goat Ocella._

I opened my eyes and looked into Eric’s. They were filled with trapped anger. So complete and fiery it took my breath away. I could almost imagine him in a former life. A warrior on a battlefield with a huge sword in one hand. But that warrior was imprisoned, forced to become spectator and unwilling participant within his own body. Ocella had always been like that, I knew it from Pam’s mind. This was how he raised vampires. Eric needed to break free of Ocella’s command. I didn’t even know if it was possible to break a maker’s command by sheer will.

Goad. Hunter’s meaning swept through me like a sudden gust of cold wind.

Hunter meant _goad._ Did Pam want me to provoke Ocella so that Eric’s only option was to break free of his maker’s control? My heart hammered in my chest. How much danger was I putting myself and Hunter in? Couldn't he then just command Eric to kill me, or continue torturing me until morning? At least then, if it was just torture, I'd finally be able to escape with Hunter afterwards. But there was every likelihood Ocella would twig that I couldn't be glamoured. Then all bets would truly be off.

I remembered the insurance I held in my pocket. I couldn’t quite reach it with Eric holding my arm in his hand, but I knew if I moved quickly, I'd have a chance at reaching it with my free hand. This was it, wasn't it? The perfect time to use it. But I couldn't - I just couldn't. My cries came out in soft breathy whimpers, the flame tracing a slow steady path along my upper arm. Even in the throes of pain, my indecision was a giant hurdle, one I couldn't cross. I could hardly think straight. What would I wish for? The thought of inadvertently turning Hunter into a vampire or any other horrific consequence frightened me more than any pain affecting me. More than any future threat of pain. I wanted to use it but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until there was no other option. I had to try what Pam suggested first.

“You are foul,” I spat at Ocella. “God’s saving a special spot in hell for scum like you.”

“How quaint.” Ocella rocked back onto his heels, looking pleased. “You think God is still of this world? Certainly no Christian god remains.” 

He spread his arms wide, projecting his voice to the room. “Look around you, girl. Your god has been and gone – he has taken his chosen with him. And you? You are left to suffer with the others; deemed unworthy. The epoch of Christianity is over. Now is the time of war and strength, of famine and conquest. The next great age. A time for Jupiter, Mars and Quirinus. The great Gods.”

“Bullshit,” I moaned, my knees weakening. Somehow Eric was holding me afoot by only my arm. “Everyone is dead because of the fucking fairies. Nothing to do with God’s wrath or rapture.”

Ocella lifted a hand, motioning for Eric to stop. And bless him, Eric stopped the instant Ocella released him from the command. Eric physically moved me away from Ocella, putting himself between us.

“Fairies? What do you know of fairies?” 

I moved to Eric’s side and gave Ocella my crazy Sookie smile, mostly an involuntary response to the pain, but also because I felt safe in the knowledge that the cluviel dor was humming comfortably inside my pocket. 

“Sookie,” Eric hissed in caution. “Speak wisely.”

“They hold all the cards now,” I said. “The human population is unsustainable at its current levels. We’re on the endangered list… Going extinct. There’ll be nothing left of us in a few generations. And vampires? I think you’re smart enough to work out what that will mean for y’all.” 

“She lies.” Ocella looked to Eric, a shadow of uncertainty flickering with the candlelight across his features. 

I reached to Eric and took the candle from his hand. He was glaring at Ocella darkly, his jaw ticking. The candle slid from his grip after a little tug. His eyes darted to me and he watched as I snuffed the flame out between my thumb and forefinger. 

“A mysterious plague wipes out humans,” I said. “Humans, who have become more and more reliant on iron. Fairies could barely exist on this plane with humans encroaching on their sacred spaces, it affected their fertility; their species was dying out. So how convenient that the virus which simultaneously wipes out humans, also decimates the population of the fairies’ greatest predator? Seeing as you all had to cull your youngest to ensure your continued survival too. And what will happen to y’all when your food source is completely gone?” 

I set the candle down on the floor and rolled it away with the toe of my shoe. I couldn’t bear to look at my arm and see the extent of the damage. It throbbed and yowled with pain, begging for cold relief. 

“Time moves differently in Faerie,” I said. “It could be just a blink of an eye for them before they’re back here and we’re all gone, and the vampires too as a result of that. The world will be theirs. The plague was a clever plan of theirs, don't you think? We have a saying in America, but I’m sure you’ve heard of it… Two birds, one stone.”

“How do you know this?” Ocella began forcing his glamour onto me, it wasn’t the tickling pressure I’d experienced before but rather a vice squeezing my mind from the inside. 

I pressed my lips together in a determined line and shook my head. Ocella’s face flashed with surprised … and a shade of deep disturbance. The moment he realized he couldn’t force me like he could with his kin. I held his gaze coolly, but really I just wanted to crow with glee. No, you consummate ass, you _can’t_ control me.

“You will tell me,” he demanded.

“Ocella – enough. She postulates. She does not know this to be true. Leave her. She and the boy are more trouble than they're worth to you. Let us continue on alone. There are humans some hours flight to the west of here in Atlanta, we will procure some to take with us to Europe.” 

“She resists my glamor.” Ocella blurred to me and grabbed my chin, boring his glamor into me. “You will heel, pet. Tell me what you know of the fairies.” 

“I don’t have to tell you squat.” I narrowed my eyes, responding in the same churlish way I addressed Eric when we first met. Goading vampires was an old habit now. I just hoped it would have the desired response, my gaze briefly jumping to Eric. 

“Appius, forget her. She is more trouble than she’s worth.” Eric looked incensed and he clamped a hand down on his maker's shoulder trying to draw his attention away from me. 

“There is more than one way to make you speak,” Ocella said to me, ignoring Eric completely. He dropped my chin and turned to Eric. “Grab the child. We shall see how much of her obstinacy remains when her son is the one crying in pain.” 

I yelled out, but Eric didn’t move, instead he responded to with a slow resolute shake of the head. 

“No. You will not bring the child into this,” he said, each syllable a defined hard sound that bounced off the tiled floor and glass. “I will not allow it.”

“Do not question your maker, Eiríkr.” 

“Where is your honor, Fadēr?” 

“Flocci non faccio,” Ocella snarled, his voice rising. _I do not give a damn._ “We must know if she speaks the truth. For the survival of our species. I command you-“ 

His words were cut in half as Eric’s large hands grabbed him by the head and snapped his neck with a single practiced movement. The crunch echoed and Ocella collapsed in a heap to the floor. I gasped, stepping back. Was he dead? Ocella’s eyes, blank and unseeing, were trained upwards towards the ceiling.

Eric grabbed me by the elbows, turning me away from the sight of his crumpled maker. 

“You have a few minutes, at best, before he is conscious. I will restrain him. Go. Contact your relatives. Return to Faerie. You will be safe there.” There was no attempt at glamour but his words were steeped with the strength of a command. 

I just stared back in dumb shock at Eric. Was he freaking kidding me? Why wasn’t he going to kill Ocella? I searched his eyes. They were stormy, anguished. It cut through the heart of me. I realized that Ocella’s power wasn’t just in his command, it was also in his psychological effect as a maker. 

No, I realized with a start, the notion hadn’t simply occurred to me. I'd felt it straight from Eric’s mind, just as I had heard Pam’s earlier in the evening. I was finally privy to the inner workings of his mind. And Eric felt misplaced loyalty to his bastard maker.

He released my elbows and I stepped back, my mental connection to Eric snuffing out, his mind a void once more. Eric zipped across the room to where a small case sat on the floor. I stood in place, torn between looking from him to Ocella's supine form until I heard movement in the kitchen. Hunter. I moved quickly towards the doors. 

I paused with my hands ready to push the swinging doors, but hesitation held my feet down like sinking swamp mud. I turned back to watch as Eric crouched by the case, white cotton gloves on his hands. He was holding long lengths of silver chains. The fine silver threads caught the candlelight, appearing almost like hair. He stood and strode back to Ocella. 

He would bind him in silver? Then what? How many nights could he do that until I was safe? What would happen to Eric or Pam when he finally released him? Torture? More centuries of servitude? And could I really just go and live with my fairy relatives knowing what the consequences were by leaving Eric behind to deal with his maker? There was no way in hell I'd go to Faerie. What on earth was I doing!?

I left the doorway and moved to where Alexei and I had crashed through the window. His puddle of ash and blood sat slick and congealed. I picked up the rudimentary stake Pam had used. The chair leg was covered in dark red blood and chunky bits. I didn’t care. My feet carried me with almost unconscious effort to Eric’s side where he was crouched by Ocella.

“Move,” I told Eric. The smell of Ocella’s burning flesh under the silver was acrid, but no worse than the smell of my own when the candle was burning me. It was a reminder. It cemented my resolve. I was ending this.

Eric looked at me over his shoulder.

“Move,” I screamed. My hoarse voice bounced and distorted, echoing back to us. But Eric didn’t move, he seemed frozen. 

Ocella’s fingers twitched. Both of our gazes snapped towards the idle movement. My stomach lurched. No time for indecision. No time to question. Eric let me push past his shoulder and I brought the stake down hard, slamming it through Ocella’s chest, through his unbleached linen button up, through his skin, flesh, gristle and bone. Eric yelled out, but it was too late.

There was resistance like plunging a stick through hard mud but then suddenly it gave, blood spurting from the edges of the wound. I watched mesmerized as Ocella transformed into an ashy, shrunken heap. It was creepy, like a dehydrated corpse with blackened cigar ash spreading rapidly outwards from the bleeding chest wound. I stepped back in revulsion, slipping on the smooth tile and falling hard onto my rear end. I pulled myself up to my feet and saw as the last of Ocella flaked away. It was drier than Alexei; I wondered if that was to do with age. In seconds all that was left was bloodied clothes and ash. 

Eric seemed as though he was steeling himself through some pain, his body twisted away from me. A ripple of fear traveled through me. Did killing a vampire’s maker injure the progeny? Pam hadn’t warned me. He looked up, perhaps sensing my concern. Bloody tear tracks marked his cheeks. I gasped, the stake falling to the floor with a clatter.

“Self-preservation,” I choked out when it looked like he would speak first. I couldn’t bear to face him and his grief, however misplaced it was for that sociopathic, piece of shit Ocella. A tangle of sensation took root inside my chest, a giant snarl I couldn’t decipher. It was a strange sort of horror dawning on me. Was this how murderers felt? Was this the feeling they relished? I felt dirty. Inside and out.

I left the room, running straight for the kitchen. Pam was sitting there on a long stainless steel bench, Hunter’s sleeping head resting in her lap. Her lantern sat glowing dimly beside her, the battery wearing flat. Her face was deadly serious, pink lips pursed together. 

She nodded to me. It was a respectful nod. One woman to another. Solidarity. Thank you.

I scooped Hunter immediately into my arms, breathing him in, checking him over my with hands. He appeared fine. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around me in an automatic response. A sob rose unbidden from my chest, followed by cries I could no longer contain. 

“I can’t believe he fell asleep through all that,” I managed between tears, stroking my fingers through his dark hair. I marveled at the familiar feel. It was like we had never parted. Like the last moments, the last hours, hell, even the last week was a dream. 

Pam hopped down and wet a tea towel using a cask of spring water on the bench. She used it to wipe the remnants of blood and ash from my face. 

“I told him a bedtime story,” she drawled. “Jack the Ripper.” 

“Oh, Pam… Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Well, it’s no longer a joke if I’m forced to explain it,” she deadpanned. She shrugged when I gave her a look. She finished wiping me clean and threw the tea towel down. “He fell asleep with the aid of a little glamour. I thought it best he miss the action.” She zipped out of the kitchen before I could respond. I wanted to thank her; to ask her if Eric would be okay, but she’d given me no chance. 

Hunter stirred in my arms, mumbling my name. I rubbed his back, soothing him. Everything that was good and right with the world was currently in my arms. I never wanted to let him go. Everything else was just details.

* * *

Eric was sitting on the chesterfield, leaning forward and staring at his clasped hands when I entered the reception room again. Pam was beside him, speaking rapidly in hushed tones. The doors to outside remained flung open, leaves were blowing in and the ash of a dead vampire father and son stirred like small whirlwinds. I shivered. Three people had died here tonight. It felt surreal, I was sure I was in shock.

I gripped Hunter tighter to me and managed to pick my beleaguered backpack off the floor. It had faithfully traveled so far with me. Only a little ways further to get home. I wondered how long until dawn and the car and cavalry arrived. 

I didn’t say a word to the vampires, though I acutely felt the heaviness of Eric’s gaze following my movements. Pam continued speaking, her hushed words incomprehensible. I wanted to say goodbye, but how? I didn’t have the words. I was wearier than I’d ever felt. The last week had zapped every available resource from me. Stretching the limits of experience and my morality. I felt different, like I didn’t even know who I was anymore. 

I wanted to look Eric in the eyes and apologize for killing his maker. Then I wanted to tell him I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. I wanted hate him for being a vampire. To yell at him for the shit his maker had dragged Hunter and I into. I wanted to blame him for all the nasty vampires in this world, Bill Compton included. I also wanted to hug him one last time. Thank him for the brief flash of joy he had given me sandwiched in between two of the worst events that had ever happened to me.

But mostly, more than anything, I wanted to leave it all behind. I wanted to close this chapter on my life and move on. Be done with vampires and death and disruption forever. It was too much. I just couldn’t deal. I needed normality again. I'd forgotten what it felt like. I walked through the open doors and out of the atrium. I’d seen a small undercover bus shelter in the car park on the way in when Ocella had landed here with me. Hunter and I would wait for morning there. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was leaving the creepy atrium, with its brass gramophone, blood stains and the smell of burning flesh behind.

“Sookie,” Eric said when I was a half dozen steps out the door. 

I faltered and stopped but didn’t turn towards him. I held my breath and pressed my face against Hunter’s head. Eric approached me slowly from behind, his footfalls sure and steady. When he walked around to face me, all traces of blood had been wiped clean. His eyes stood out, softly glowing like the rest of him. They were a startling blue rising above the dim light from the lantern held in my hand, though the shadows under his eyes looked darker than I’d ever seen them. I wondered if it was a trick of the light. 

Moments passed between us. 

“He should be glamoured,” he said at last. 

“Why?” I felt like my heart was about to fall out of my chest and onto the path between our feet. 

“I can glamour him to forget any suffering. It will be as if it never happened.” 

Pam joined him at his side and offered her agreement. 

“How much suffering was there?” I asked hoarsely.

“Very little. Alexei roughed him up, tried to bite him. Ocella tasted his blood, though did not drink. So enough harm to undo with glamour,” he replied. No further details. I wasn’t sure I could handle more details if it could all be undone, anyway.

I gently roused Hunter, who was groggy though ecstatic to see me. Pam led me aside while Eric crouched with my boy, talking to him softly. Eric took Hunter’s hand, it was dwarfed within his own. Hunter stared at him blankly as Eric spoke. What Eric said to him exactly was lost between us and the wind. 

I wondered if it was Hunter’s weaker shields that made him perceptible to glamour. Or maybe because his fairy blood was more diluted. Whatever the reason it was, I would be grateful for it forever. 

Eric led Hunter back to me and I picked him up again, pressing my lips to his forehead. 

_You doing alright, baby?_

_Yeah, Momma. We had a fun vacation, but I wanna go home now._

_Sure thing, Jessup is coming to get us real soon._

“Thank you,” I said to Eric. He nodded once but then spoke my name again when I began to move past him.

“No… Please, Eric,” I said tilting my head to look up at him. I wanted him to see the strength of sincerity on my face. “I’m done. I’m going home.”

I expected him to look repentant over what had happened, or maybe bereft - not for me but for Ocella. Instead, he looked closed off, his face hardened of emotion like the frozen ground in winter. It struck me then just how different we were. Maybe not as people, but on a more essential level, as two species. 

“Please honor our deal,” I said quietly. I knew he wouldn’t have forgotten the terms. I ducked my head and stepped around him. Silently, he let me pass. I walked down the winding stone path through the gardens, towards the car park. It felt like a yawning hollow space had been carved in my chest.

“Momma,” Hunter said, looking over my shoulder. “That man has long hair.” 

“I know, baby.” 

“Girls have long hair.” 

“Men can have long hair too,” I said, a little laugh of relief bubbling up. 

“I like him. He doesn’t speak in his head.”

“The peace is nice, isn’t it?” I said after a long moment had passed while I searched for the right words.

We sat in the bus shelter snuggled into one another as the wind eventually died down to the occasional gust. Hunter slept in my arms while the sun rose, shafts of light shining like beacons through the thick stand of trees on the other side of the carpark. I could see a small river through the forest, snatches of water glittering appealingly between the trees. The morning birdsong was louder than I ever recalled hearing and I decided they were happy and thankful to have survived the windy night.

I smiled, the sun warming my face. I had survived too. Hunter and I had survived. We had made it to morning. Life could go on. I opened my fist to look at the cluviel dor, its thrumming presence warming my hand. And life was full of possibility now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming along this wild ride with me! I hope to get the epilogue up sometime tomorrow. And yes, this chapter is only one-half of Sookie's HEA. The epilogue will be a goody :) This is still definitely an E+S story.
> 
> I'm curious to hear what you might think was going through Eric's head during their final interactions and when Ocella died? Do you think Sookie interpreted it wrong? 
> 
> As much as I'd love for them to leap into each other's arms and declare their love for one another it just wouldn't be true to these characters and this story. Especially Sookie. She's been through a lot over the 9 days this story takes place in. Give her a little time. 
> 
> Until tomorrow, faithful readers!


	21. Epilogue

_**Five months later**_

Rain drummed on the tin roof. It was blissful white noise, lulling me back to the dreamless sleep that Hunter was determinedly elbowing me out of. 

“Mommy,” he whispered, elbowing me again. 

I grunted. I had laid down with him to read his bedtime story sometime earlier and we had both fallen asleep before I could finish. It had been a big day. Lots of prep out at the community farm for a new season of planting. Hunter and a bunch of the other kids from around town had spent the day following Johnny and Lotte, the vet, around the farm helping them tend the animals.

“Mommy, Pammy’s here.” 

I grunted again in acknowledgment and reflexively reached out with my mind. A void was at the door. 

“Okay, okay,” I grumbled swinging my legs out of bed but only after Hunter prompted me again mentally, rather than speaking out loud. My thighs and glutes complained pleasantly as I got out of bed. They were sore from squatting and tilling soil all day.

I walked through the house via the kitchen and put the kettle on, yawning. The power was still on so it meant it was still before nine pm. I pulled on my favorite knit cardigan, the pale gray and chunky one that always hung in the hallway with the coats and bags, and flicked on the standing lamp by the door, then the porch light.

I unlatched the door, kicking it open with my toe as I pulled my bed hair back into a high pony. Pam had only visited two nights earlier. I was surprised she would be back so soon. I planned on teasing her for not getting enough of me. 

I froze when I saw the figure standing at the other side of the door. 

_Eric._

He was drenched with rain. His hair hung in thick ropes, his pale blue t-shirt and jeans turned shades darker thanks to all the wet. I noted, somewhat stunned, that he was wearing flip flops. It was cold outside; it was still February, some nights it got as low as 30. Not exactly flip-flop weather.

“Hey…” I said. I finished tying my hair back and pulled my cardigan protectively around me. I hadn’t seen him since the night I’d rescued Hunter. Since the night I’d killed his maker and told him to honor our agreement to leave me alone forever.

“Hey,” he said.

He looked exactly as I remembered, except wet. Wet and devastatingly handsome. That was the way of vampires, wasn’t it? Unchanging. Frozen in time. He’d always look exactly as I remembered him.

“I thought you were Pam,” I said stupidly. The shock had my heart clattering around inside of me, a dodgem car battering against every wall inside my chest. 

Pam never mentioned Eric during her visits. I'd asked her not to bring him up and she had agreed with a smirk. We’d since both studiously avoided the topic. I'd needed to not think about him. I needed time to deal with the trauma of that week back in September. I needed to untangle the mess Ocella had made of my heart and head. 

If I ever asked Pam about her life, she never included a mention of Eric, though it often felt like she wanted to bring him up… Her sentences would occasionally trail off in a meaningful sort of way, or she’d make an off-hand comment accompanied with a knowing look. And then there were the recurring jokes about my love life being deader than a vampire. But I always followed it up by calling her a bitch. Lovingly, mostly.

Now here he was, Mr. Unmentionable. Standing before me and impossible to avoid. 

“Pam did inform me of her social calls.” Eric’s lips pulled into a tight, strained smile.

“Is that why you’re here?” I ventured. “A… social call?” 

“If you will allow it.” 

I felt Hunter moving down the hallway, eager to see Pam. He had taken a shine to her, oddly. She tolerated him with eye rolls and sarcastic quips, but he loved when she visited. Her silent mind was a big appeal. She also let him brush her hair as a ‘treat’. It was pretty freaking hilarious. 

“Hang on a sec,” I said to Eric and shut the door in his face.

I ushered Hunter back to his bedroom, telling him it was Pam’s friend and that it was grown-up time now and he needed to sleep. I let him pick a plush toy from the shelf and tucked him back in, turning on the red mushroom night light beside his bed. He settled happily.

I was nervous. Unsure how to absorb the presence of the tall, handsome vampire at my door. 

I enjoyed Pam’s company regularly. She had shown up out of the blue some weeks after I’d returned home with Hunter. I had sworn off vampires but when I’d seen her at my doorstep, I was shocked and my southern manners kicked in as habit. She’d traveled all that way to visit with me, I could hardly send her away. 

And maybe I had missed her and Eric just a little bit too. 

Pam and I had sat out on the back patio, and over the course of the evening, she and I had struck a tentative friendship. She painted my fingernails with the nail-hardening polish she’d brought with her, informing me my chipped nails were ghastly. She’d come back for a visit nearly every week since.

In that time since, and much to my surprise, Pam had become my closest girlfriend. And she declared more than once that I was her best friend too. Though, the way she said it made me feel sort of like a yappy purse-dog that she could boast about and occasionally dress up. Either way, she was definitely the one of the only people I could let my hair down with. I think Pam was mostly impressed with my murder rap sheet than my girl talk ability. She’d told me she included Bill on my list of kills. Said that he was so dull, his final death was the most exciting thing to happen his whole existence. 

I splashed water on my face and cleaned my teeth in the bathroom. From my bedroom, I retrieved a shirt from the chest of drawers. Finally, I fixed myself a mug of tea. I tried not to rush. Eric had lived a thousand years. I figured he could handle waiting a few minutes for me. 

I closed the front door behind me quietly when I stepped back out onto the front porch. I felt for Hunter’s presence, he was already drifting back to sleep. Eric was leaning against the porch railing facing me, arms crossed, feet crossed at the ankle. A strange thrill ran through me. 

“Here you go,” I said, handing him the dry shirt. 

“You kept this?” he asked, unfolding his black t-shirt with a quizzical eye.

“I may or may not have accidentally brought it home with me after our little trip.” I cupped the hot mug with both hands. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” I huffed. 

Eric chuckled and I joined in too after a beat. He peeled off his wet t-shirt and hung it over the rail to dry. I cooled my tea with puffs of air as I watched him from under my lashes. Perfect muscles, each defined and smooth and familiar. They whorled and pulled taut as he put the dry t-shirt on. 

I wondered how much he hated me. I couldn’t blame him if he did. It was because of me that his maker was dead, and to a lesser extent, Alexei too. 

I didn’t regret ending Appius Livius Ocella. But knowingly taking the life of someone, undead though they may be, still made me struggle with my own opinion of myself. Even if it was done for the right reasons. Then there was Barb the were-falcon. She haunted my dreams frequently. Eric’s bloody, tear streaked face did on occasion too. I just really wasn’t cut out for killing people. I could only imagine Pam’s disappointment.

I gestured beside us to where a small table and two wrought iron chairs sat facing the garden. We settled across from one another, staring out to the front yard. Rain dripped off the eaves and my lawn, thick and lush, was well overdue for a mow. From the towering wisteria, a tire swing hung off fraying rope. 

“I-”

“So-” We both spoke at once and then laughed awkwardly. I groaned internally, this was difficult.

“You go,” I said. 

“You’re well?” he asked and turned to me, hooking his arm casually across the back of his chair.

“I am, actually. Life is good.” I smiled. “I’ve been working shifts down at the farm preparing for the spring planting. It’s good, hard work. And there’s been talk of extending the power by a couple extra hours in the evenings. We’ve had an engineer move to town, he’s working at the hydro station now.” 

“And your boy?” 

“Hunter’s good too.” And he was. Strong-willed, smart as a whip, sweet and mature for his age. Though, the last trait was likely just an inevitable side effect of telepathy. “He remembers you, you know,” I said. “Remembers some of the stories you told him. Stories about frost giants and bloody wars and black birds that traveled the world.” 

I tried to sound disapproving. It wasn’t exactly appropriate material for a four-year-old, though I found it hard to care. Hunter couldn’t remember Ocella or Alexei, or even that night he was snatched from his bed. What he did remember was a fun vacation, where he met a tall man with long hair and a silent mind who told him exciting stories. What Eric had done was a blessing. 

Eric nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Every boy should know the sagas.” 

“Did you settle back in Florida?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. I had wondered.

“No. I’ve been in Atlanta with the community there. It’s been mind-numbing, but a stable existence.” 

Ah. He was still with Pam, then.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to my right arm. I frowned in confusion but realization sunk in a moment later. I told him it was okay and removed my arm from the cardigan sleeve. He took it gently in his broad hands. His fingertips traced the thickened scar tissue on my arm. It formed an almost perfect letter O. The burn had healed well, thankfully - but Ocella's brand would remain forever on my arm.

“There are few things I regret as much as this,” he said quietly. 

“It’s not your fault,” I said, stilling his hand with mine. “I don’t blame you. So there’s nothing to apologize for.” 

His jaw clenched. He obviously thought different. I shifted uncomfortably and slipped my arm out of his grasp and back into the knit cardigan. 

“I don’t regret killing your maker,” I said watching carefully for his response. “There just wasn’t any other viable alternative. For me and I don’t think for you, either. I know you can appreciate that. But I am sorry for any pain I’ve caused you.” 

“Ocella taught me everything about being a vampire,” Eric said evenly, his gaze shifting back to the garden. “He taught me how to feel, how to hide, when it was safe to be with humans. He taught me how to make love with men, and later he freed me to make love with women. He protected me and loved me. He caused me pain for decades. He gave me life, but now he is dead.” 

“He is,” I said. “Because of me.” 

He nodded slowly and turned back to me. His eyes shone. “You freed me.” 

The snarl of tension that had existed inside my chest since that damned night began to unfurl. I blinked back tears.

“The passage of time had changed him,” Eric said. I wasn’t sure if he was making excuses for Ocella or just looking for reasons to ascribe to his maker’s demise. 

“Maybe it wasn’t him that changed. Maybe it’s you?” 

“Maybe,” he said with a ghost of a smile. 

“Do you think it was fate or coincidence?” I gestured between us. “Bon Temps. Meeting in Florida… Everything with Ocella.” 

“Fate is an overrated concept. The future isn’t predetermined, it just is.” 

“Is it really that simple, though?” I brought my knees up to hug them. 

“Do you think it was fate that almost eight billion humans died? That hundreds of thousands of vampires met the true death as a result? 

“No. Definitely not.” Fate wouldn’t be that cruel. It was the fairies that were.

He nodded as though that proved his point. I wasn’t so sure… Maybe it did. 

“C’mon,” I said at last, standing up. I’d had enough gloomy talk. I slipped my feet into the knee high rubber galoshes that sat beside my _Welcome_ doormat and grabbed a flashlight from inside the door. “I want to show you something.” 

Eric followed me in the rain around the side of the house and down to the back garden. Hunter and I had marked a path through the yard with solar lamps in a variety of colors, like a dim rainbow runway leading to the far end of the garden. At the very back beside the large vegetable patch, was a steel framed hot house. I opened the door and stepped inside and out of the rain. It was coming down steadily and percussive against the clear plastic paneling. Eric ducked under the door frame and looked around curiously. I reached to the side and switched on the solar-powered fairy lights which were strung along the ceiling beam.

“What is it?” he asked. 

I shone the flashlight at the aluminum planting table that ran along the right-hand side of the hothouse. It was covered in seedlings, but I focused the light on ten small plastic seedling pots in particular. 

“I’m growing oranges from the seeds in the fruit you gave me,” I said, grinning broadly up at him. “It’ll be years before any of them bear fruit but so far so good.” I set the light down on the table and felt the soil of the nearest seedling with my fingers, checking to see it was still moist enough. The damp granules of dirt clung to my fingertips.

Eric stroked my cheek, I looked up to see him smiling at me softly. “Mi media naranja.” 

“Sorry?” I asked, only then noticing how enclosed the confines of the hothouse were, how close he was to me. I could smell him, the faint scent of his cologne. I resisted the urge to press my face right into his shirt and breathe deeply.

“In Spain, it’s how one refers to their lover. The literal translation is ‘my half-orange’. My other half.” 

“Oh.” The rush of blood in my ears rose over the sound of pattering rain. He took my hand and gently brushed the dirt from my fingers. 

“You are never far from my thoughts, Sookie.” 

“Even after all I’ve done?” 

“You acted bravely and decisively for yourself and for your child. I'm proud of your actions. You’re a remarkable woman.” 

“I don’t know about that,” I said with a nervous laugh. 

“I do.” He said it so surely I wanted to believe him. He pulled me into his arms and I molded against him. My hands automatically slipped under the back of his t-shirt, unable to resist touching him. He inhaled deeply, I did the same. 

There were nights after Hunter fell asleep that it was all I could do to fend off the cobwebs of loneliness. Eric had opened a part of my heart that neither Hunter, nor any other person I knew could fill. A taster of love that had shown me what I had been missing out on my whole life. I’d loved and hated him for it, all in the one mixed up confusing heap. 

“Why did you come all this way?” I asked.

“I had to see you.” 

“Hugs are that hard to come by in Atlanta, are they?”

“I broke our deal,” he said. “Do you care?” 

“No.” The word left my lips before I was aware I’d even answered him. 

“You can’t deny how right this feels,” he murmured into my hair. I closed my eyes. I felt cocooned in his arm. No, not even a little part of me could deny it.

“Is it my blood? Or my telepathy? Is that why?” Doubts about his interest prickled the insecure corners of my mind. I knew it a little pathetic and typical, but I needed to hear it. I’d had over five months to percolate and recall our brief fling in every which way... It had inevitably led to doubts. 

“I have feelings, Sookie. Ones that no self-respecting vampire should. I die for the day with you as my last thought and when I wake you are the first thing I see in my mind. It’s you, the person you are, not your blood or your gift.” He lifted my chin with his finger so I could look him in the eyes. “And what of me? Now you no longer feel the effects of my blood in your system…” He trailed off, a shadow of uncertainty in his voice. 

“Some days I hate you,” I whispered. “I hate that we only had those two nights to really be together and I hate that all this horrible shit happened and then you were gone. I hate that you made me feel things I can’t unfeel and that I now have to pass the rest of my life with only the memory of it.” My voice cracked.

“It’s fine if you want to hate me.” He cradled my face, wiping some of the residual raindrops away with the pads of his thumbs. “But I’ll be happy to jog your memory.” He brushed his lips against mine. 

I leaned into his kiss, running my fingertips up along the column of his spine. His skin was cool and damp from rain. He backed me up against the metal table, a little seedling tub toppling over the side. I really couldn’t find it in me to care. He lifted me onto the bench and I wrapped my legs around him, kissing him more urgently. Five months of longing, of confusion and hurt, coalesced into a single moment’s kiss. The intensity scared me, but it was too late. The straps had burst, that suitcase of emotion was undone.

“You’ll let me visit you again,” he said against my mouth. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, please,” I breathed. “I might even invite you in next time.” 

Eric grinned triumphantly and I kissed him again before he could spoil the moment with the smart-ass comment I just knew was forming on his lips. I pressed him tighter to me, hooking my ankles together behind him and kissed him for all I was worth. I was always a last word kind of girl, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eric's quote about Ocella is taken from Dead in the Family. Hard to top Eric's original monologue. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the ending! I've had so much fun sharing this story with you guys. 
> 
> Ao3 is my preferred platform for posting fan-fic, but my only complaint is that other than seeing the total number of hits, I can't see more detailed statistics like I can on FF.net. I'd love to know how many of you read this story through, so please leave a quick comment saying hello or tell me what you thought!
> 
> Is there any interest in a sequel?


End file.
